Fire in the Blood XO
by Tazo
Summary: HellsingWHR Three hundred and twenty years since the coven sank in the dark. Eighty-five years since the castle of darkness loomed over the land. Fifty-four years since the end of the war that threatened to kill the world, a long dead enemy rises again..
1. Aftermath

I do not own Hellsing, Witch Hunter Robin, Castlevania, or any of its characters. They are owned by Kouta Hiraino, Bandai Entertainment, and Konami respectively, as well as a few others I am probably forgetting.

A note on cannons. This is a crossover of the three anime/games mentioned above, however knowledge of Castlevania is completely unrequired to read this fic, as all Castlevania elements will be explained in it. It picks up after both animes, but incorporates many elements from the Hellsing mangas.

This fic is tentatively rated PG-13 for now, but will most likely be bumped up to an R rating later.

Thank you for your patience, and enjoy.

* * *

"The choice, Sir Integra, is yours..." 

**BAM! BAM!**

The low knock rang through Integra's small cell. Alucard opened his hand and let the shards of the wine glass fall to the floor.

"Choose wisely." Alucard's low chuckle echoed through the small room and he faded into darkness.

**BAM! BAM!**

"Are you... decent, Miss Integra?"

Integra flinched. What would her father have though of her being called "Miss"? She took the cigar out of her mouth. "You may enter."

The door slowly opened. Integra squinted at the sudden light that shone into the room.

"The Queen will see you now."

* * *

Integra had had many audiences with the Queen before. She had even been called on the carpet before, when she was in her late teens. The ceremony was always the same. Integra would kneel before the Queen and pledge her undying loyalty as well as her skill and knowledge of the undead. The Queen would then accept her pledge, and then they would get around to the matter at hand. Walter had told her once that the ceremony was based on her great-grandfather's first audience with the monarch of England. 

The cloth handcuffs, however, were new.

"Integral Wingates Hellsing, I am sorry to inform you that the Round Table Conference has found you guilty of treason against the crown. As such, your family is stripped of its land and titles, all records of your birth and life shall be purged, and Hellsing manor shall be renovated and auctioned off to another. In effect, you will officially cease to exist; in fact, you will effectively never have existed."

Integra kept her head bowed, humiliated but still amazed that she was still alive. She wanted to leave, to retain at least the smallest bit of her dignity; but she could not, would not leave, not until she had been dismissed.

"Now," the Queen said, "To the issue of establishing a new demon-hunting organization. Rise, Integra Hellsing."

Integra rose and stood, straight backed, in front of the Queen.

"In view of you and your family's exemplary service to Great Britain, I am offering you knighthood, a seat on the Round Table, and a position as director of the newly formed Hellsing organization. Do you accept?"

Integra raised an eyebrow slightly. "I'm afraid I don't understand your majesty."

The Queen wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to an attendant, who walked down the stairs and handed it to Integra. She stared at the slip of paper and smiled slightly.

"Can you put your house in order by the knighting ceremony in a week's time?"

Integra folded up the slip of paper and slid it into her pocket. "I think I can manage your majesty."

* * *

Chapter 1-Aftermath

* * *

It started with a report by a BBC reporter covering the effort to reconstruct the Tower of London, and indeed, most of England, following the devastating terrorist attacks. It was the cub reporter's first piece, and it surprised everyone by being amazingly good.

* * *

The program was playing in a New York Airport on a bank of television screens, displaying different news networks, the BBC among them. A pale man with long dark hair sat in a chair idly and watched the program. He shook his head slightly every time the reporter decried the Hellsing organization as the culprit. 

A McDonald's bag dropped into his lap as a young man with red hair tied back into a pony-tail and the beginnings of a goatee vaulted over the seat back to sit beside him

"How can you eat that?" the redhead asked, pulling a Styrofoam box and a pair of cheap chopsticks from a plastic bag.

"Once you reach a certain age, most food starts to taste the same."

"Oh? And what age is that?"

"Two-hundred and fifty."

The redhead shrugged and started digging into his General Tso's Chicken. He followed the pale man's gaze and started watching the new report with him.

"It's a thankless job, isn't it?" the redhead said, staring at the BBC reporter.

"The vampire's greatest power is that no one will believe in him. So to combat it, we hunters must also not exist."

The redhead nodded. He stood up and walked to a trash can where he threw away the Styrofoam container and plastic bag. He returned to his seat and pulled a file from out of his luggage.

"How did you find out about Orlox wanting these two?"

"I've had some old friends looking into Orlox's movements."

"The DeNasty's?" the redhead asked, flipping through his file.

The pale man nodded and began to eat his Big Mac.

A voice rang out over the loud speaker, announcing that flight 2893 to England was now boarding rows 15-26. The pale man put the remains of his Big Mac in the bag, stood up, gathered his luggage, and started walking towards the boarding area.

"Hey, Al!" the redhead called out, "Good luck with your father!"

The pale man gave him a rare smile. "Thank you Julius... but it's Adrian now. The name of Alucard belongs to someone else." Adrian turned around and vanished into the crowd.

* * *

It was picked up and broadcast for English speaking audiences in a hotel room in Rio de Janeiro. A young woman about sixteen years old put down the remote and hugged her knees to her chest as she watched. 

A tall, dark haired man stepped in from the bathroom and looked at the news report. He shrugged and continued to towel off the shaving cream.

"Who did that?" Robin wondered aloud.

"A vampire," Amon responded.

Robin looked up at him. "A vampire?"

"Most likely. Currently the only beings that posses power like that are vampires. And not too many of them even then."

Robin turned back to the television. After a while, she asked, "Will I be that powerful one day?"

"It's possible," Amon said. He took a blanket and a pillow from the bed and threw them onto the floor. He started laying guns out onto a table.

"Get some sleep," Amon said, "we're leaving early." He started to take apart and clean an automatic.

Robin turned off the TV and rested her head on the remaining pillow.

Robin's nightmares usually involved fire. Her own power burning out of control, taking everyone she loved. What frightened her the most about these nightmares was that she was always outside of her own head during them. She was always watching herself smiling as her friends burned.

This nightmare started very similarly. Fires raged through her dream, consuming everyone she cared for. This time, it wasn't her that she was watching. It wasn't her smiling.

A short, fat man, cast almost entirely in shadow, laughed as the flame consumed everything. Robin tried to push back the fire with her own flames, but it was useless. She wasn't strong enough, she didn't have enough control. All she could do was watch everything burn, as the short, fat man laughed.

* * *

The report was watched in its country of origin, in a small pub in London. 

Seras ordered another beer, knowing it wouldn't make her any less thirsty. It had been almost a month and a half since Sir Hellsing was arrested, and without her supply of medical blood, Seras was almost starved to death. She had come dangerously close to attacking humans in the past few days. And now she was sitting in a bar, drinking liquids that killed her judgment and did nothing to quench her thirst.

The barman brought her beer to her. She reached for some money when a hand suddenly slapped some notes on the bar, "I got this one, barkeep."

And the worst part of it was that she was in a pub full of guys who looked like they hadn't seen a real life pair of breasts in a long time.

The man who had slapped the notes down on the bar seemed to be the leader. Fairly tall, with long light brown hair tied back into a braid, a cowboy hat, and an eye-patch over his left eye. He shoved his hand out. "Captain Pip Bernadette."

"Thank you, Captain Bernadette," Seras said, shaking his hand and squeezing it just a bit too hard. _God, his blood smells good,_ Seras thought.

Pip winced and sat down next to Seras. "Only my men call me Captain Bernadette, everyone else can call me Pip."

"You're French, aren't you?" Seras responded, sipping at her beer. _God, his blood smells sweet. Probably type AB too. And his neck is soooo exposed._

"Did the accent give it away? Nice contacts, by the way, where did you get 'em? They make you look scary as hell."

"You like them scary, do you?" _The blood is the life_.

"...You alright there? You look kind of pale."

Seras nodded her head forward. It was growing awfully dark. _The blood is the life, the blood is the life_. "I'm... fine...." What she wanted to do right now was just move away from the aggravating Frenchman and nap in a booth somewhere. Unfortunately, what she wanted took a back seat to what she needed. Something primal took over her brain and she lunged for Pip's neck. The last thing she remembered before blacking out completely was a constricting feeling around her torso.

When she regained consciousness, she was on the floor, lapping up blood. She jumped up suddenly, a look of pure disgust and horror on her face.

"Miss Victoria, please don't stop drinking on our account. Quite honestly, it's a miracle you made it this long."

Seras looked down at her hands to realize that she had been sucking the blood out of a transfusion pack. She looked back up to see Walter, a bandage around his head, sitting at a table. Captain Bernadette sat across from him, sipping at a beer. The bartender had disappeared, and some of the patrons were hovering around the doors in a noticeably threatening fashion.

Seras ran up to Pip. "I am so sorry, are you alright?"

Pip fingered his long braid, which he had wrapped around his neck. "Eh, there are worse ways to die than an overzealous hickey."

Seras glared at him. Pip grinned and tapped his eye-patch. "Besides," he said, "I've had worse."

Walter indicated that Seras should sit down and cleared his throat. "We're hiring Captain Bernadette's mercenary group, the Wild Geese, to staff the new Hellsing Organization. It was pure luck that you happened to be in this bar when I arrived."

Seras stopped sucking on the blood pack and tried to get her thoughts in order. "You're replacing Commander Ferguson with this creep? And anyway, isn't Hellsing disbanded? And where did this blood pack come from?"

Walter held up a hand. "Please slow down, Miss Victoria. You're still quite weak from the blood loss. We've been looking for you for quite some time now, and every operative we still have has been carrying around a blood pack or two in case they found you. I just found you first."

Seras nodded and continued to sip at the blood pack.

"As for Hellsing, her majesty has seen fit to reinstate us. Which reminds me," Walter said, bringing a pen and a note pad from his pocket, "we'll need have you fitted for a dress uniform for the knighting ceremony ... Captain, I don't suppose you have your own dress uniforms?"

Pip raised an eyebrow and sipped at his beer. "Dress uniforms? No. I have a semi-formal outfit or two if that helps."

Walter frowned. "We'll see."

"Knighting ceremony? But Sir, I mean, Miss Integra was stripped of her title, wasn't she? That isn't exactly something you can go back on."

Walter took a napkin and scribbled something on it with his pen. He slid it over to Seras.

Seras glanced down at the napkin, then started at Walter, an eyebrow raised questioningly. "Is it really that simple?"

"Everyone of any importance knows the truth of what happened that night, and nobody feels comfortable with anyone but Sir Integra in charge. In cases such as these, people are surprisingly wiling to look the other way, with a few small provisions."

"And what exactly do the provisions entail?"

"The supplying of our own army is the most relevant, which is where Captain Bernadette comes in, assuming he's willing?"

Pip reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He selected one from the pack and lit it.

"So, no more war, huh? Just guard duty, hunting, and destroying? A real home..." He pointed at Seras, "And our main duty will be hunting down cute freaks like her, right?"

Seras slapped him, sending him sprawling to the floor. He chuckled, pulled himself into his chair, and lit another cigarette.

"Most of your prey won't be as nearly as pleasant as Miss Victoria," Walter said.

Pip took a deep drag on his cigarette. "We'll take it. The Wild Geese are yours to command."

Walter smiled and produced several cards. "Excellent. Have all your men and equipment at this address by ten o'clock tonight. If you need assistance moving any of your equipment, contact this company and charge the cost to this credit card."

Pip grinned. "Done." He stood up and saluted to Seras. "I'll see you later tonight, kitten. Come on boys, let's get moving!" He left the pub, the other patrons leaving with him.

Walter nodded contentedly and slowly stood up. "Well, if there isn't anything you want from where ever it is you've been staying, shall we go home now, Miss Victoria?"

"Home?" Seras asked.

"Yes. I've kept your room just as you left it."

* * *

It was watched, as so many other news programs were watched, in an office in Vatican City. This office, and several other places like it throughout the city, resided in churches permanently marked to the general public as "Under Renovation". 

Father Enrico Maxwell, director of the Vatican's Section XIII, sat in his chair and stared at the two reports on his desk. "So, the Protestant whore is being reinstated. You'd think England could do better."

A quiet knock at the door distracted him from his preoccupation with Integra Hellsing.

"Come in!" he called.

Father Renaldo entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him. "Heinkel and Yumiko have returned with Bishop Gandolfini."

"Any trouble?" Enrico asked.

"A few vampire fanatics, only one vampire to speak of."

"FREAK-chipped, I assume?"

Father Renaldo nodded. Enrico stood up, walked to the window, and stared out over Vatican City. "Did they recover the chip?"

Renaldo nodded, even though Maxwell couldn't see him. He didn't have to see him, he already knew the answer. Heinkel and Yumiko were among his best agents.

"Get the chip down to the research department; see if it's one of the new ones that have been turning up. And make sure my clothes are cleaned and that my overnight bag is packed."

Renaldo nodded. "Sir, why are we attending this ceremony in the first place?"

Enrico turned around, sat down at his desk, and picked up a report. "Because if this true, we're going to need all the help we can get."

"Even heretical help?"

Enrico smiled. "Especially heretical help. Come Father, haven't you heard of the phrase 'canon fodder'?"

* * *

It was watched on a computer screen in the Raven's Flat building in Japan. 

"Remind me again why we have to go to this thing?" Sakaki asked, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head back to look up at Karasuma, who was standing behind him.

"Public relations, Haruto. The Catholic Church is on the outs with the British Government right now, something to do with the Iscariot Organization. Section Five, in the interests of goodwill, has asked Solomon to send us over to see if we can help make amends."

"But why us?" Sakaki asked, swiveling his chair around. "We're hunters, not diplomats."

"Well, we are kind of famous in the black-ops world." Michael said, never taking his eyes off the news report. "I'm sure Solomon just wants to show off the agents who took down the Factory."

Karasuma turned to Michael. "Which reminds me, Michael, do you have actually have anything we can 'show you off' in?"

Michael looked down at his dirty black t-shirt. "Er... not really."

Karasuma turned to Sakaki, "And you?"

Sakaki shook his head. Karasuma sighed and put her hand on her forehead. "This is not part of my job description..."

"Who's going to do our job while we're away?" Sakaki asked.

Karasuma nodded towards the Administrator's office. "The boss is calling in for a team from Solomon HQ. They'll work in conjunction with Eliza."

"That's an awful lot of responsibility to shove on someone so green, isn't it?" Sakaki asked.

"You were a rookie once yourself, Haruto," Michael said, turning his attention back to the report on the computer screen.

Eliza stepped out of the office. Karasuma walked towards her, pushing Sakaki's head as she passed. "You're still a rookie," she said.

Karasuma put an arm around Eliza's shoulders. "Are you okay? Ready to take this one on?"

Eliza nodded uncertainly. Karasuma took a card from her pocket and handed it to her. "If things get really, really bad, and you don't know what to do, call this man. He'll help you."

Eliza looked down at the card. "Nagira?"

"Just don't let him take you to any pachinko parlors," Karasuma said as she entered the Administrator's office.

* * *

It was watched, by a multitude of eyes, in a dark room. A white gloved hand reached out and picked up a remote. It hit the power button and placed the remote back on the table. The owner of the hand, a short, pudgy man, smiled. "Amazing. His power is almost god-like! Incognito, even after taking Set into himself, never stood a chance!" He turned to the figure on his left who was nervously biting his knuckle. "What say you, Doc?" 

Doc shook his head and adjusted his multi-lensed glasses. "I am sorry, Major, but there was nothing we could do to improve him. He was, after all, supposed to have died a long time ago."

The Major shook his head. "No, Doctor. This was a victory! We now know what Alucard is capable of when his power is unleashed! Tell me, Orlox, is it him? Is it your old master?"

The man referred to as Orlox stepped forward and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. "It's him alright. He's not using the powers from the Crimson Stone, but it's him."

"Are you sure?" Doc asked.

Orlox nodded. "I'm sure." He picked up the remote and pointed it at another TV screen. It flickered on to reveal a shadowy picture. Someone, or something, impaled on a long metal spike. "I'm very sure."

"Schrödinger? Warrant Officer Schrödinger?" The Major said.

A blonde boy dressed in a Hitler Youth uniform sitting at the Major's feet stirred and yawned. Schrödinger stood up and scratched his fuzzy ears. "Sorry Major, I fell asleep. What was that about? EEP!"

Schrödinger suddenly found himself lifted up by the collar and staring into his reflection in Doc's glasses. "Warrant Officer Schrödinger! What have I told you about-"

The Major held up a hand. "It's alright, Doc. It was a full moon last night. It's to be expected that he's a little tired."

Doc sighed and put Schrödinger down.

The Major handed Schrödinger several envelopes. "These are the Werewolves' orders, including yours and the Count's."

Schrödinger nodded.

The Major nodded. "Dismissed."

Schrödinger and Orlox stood at attention, their arms held out at an upward angel. "SIEG HEIL!" They quietly left the room, leaving the Major and his shadows to themselves.

The shadow on the Major's right side reached out and picked up the remote. He hit a button and the main screen flickered on to reveal news footage of a helicopter, smoke billowing from its tail, flying behind the Tower of London and crashing.

The Major patted the arm of the silent shadow next to him. "Don't worry Captain. The Angel of Death is far more resilient than that. You'll have your fight yet, old friend."

The Captain looked down at the Major from under his hat and nodded almost imperceptibly.

He handed the remote to the Major, who pressed a few buttons. The footage of the helicopter crash disappeared, replaced with the picture of Incognito impaled on the metal spike.

"Time for our shots," Doc said, producing three syringes. He handed one to the Major and one to the Captain.

The Major started to roll up his sleeve as he stared at the picture. "What a superb war declaration, don't you think so?"

"Yes," Doc said as he injected the syringe into his arm, "A magnificent specimen. I cannot wait to have him under my scalpel."

"Yes, a superb war declaration," the Major said as he depressed the plunger on his syringe. "I'm so glad. This means war. This means we can again go to war."


	2. Shall we Dance?

One thing I forgot to mention in the last author's note about accents. Namely, that I won't be doing them. There are way too many accents that could show up in this fic for me to try, and more importantly, I suck at them. Therefore, I won't be doing them.

* * *

The helicopter soared over the rainforest, ruffling the leaves as they passed. 

The co-pilot turned around and glanced back at their sole passenger, a thin, dark-haired woman in a black suit. She was sitting on a wooden coffin and had an enormous musket lying across her lap.

"What is that you are singing, First Lieutenant?" the co-pilot asked.

The dark-haired woman looked up and smiled. She pushed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "It's part of an opera," she said. "_The Sharpshooter_. It's about a hunter, Kaspar, who makes a deal with the demon of the hunt, Samiel. He gave her magic bullets that she can control, but she turns on Samiel and tries to hunt him. This proves… fatal."

"If thou wouldst dress as the dead and dance with them, thou will join their ranks," the pilot said.

Rip smiled, showing her fangs. "Exactly. Where did you hear that?"

"The Major mentioned it once. In passing. I'm not sure what he meant by it."

Rip raised an eyebrow, then went back to polishing her rifle.

* * *

A man in a white suit stood at the edge of a helicopter pad and stared up as the helicopter slowly lowered to the ground. He reached up and grabbed his hat as the windblast blew his jacket back. The dark-haired woman leapt out of the helicopter before it touched the ground, musket leaning on her shoulder. 

She started to walk towards the man in the white suit. "Tublicain Alhambra-" she began, but Alhambra held up a hand. Her removed his hat, placed it over his heart, and bowed.

"Please, Lieutenant Van Winkle, those who know me best call me The Dandy." He flicked his hand and a card appeared. The Queen of Hearts. The dark-haired woman smiled and accepted it.

Alhambra straightened up and replaced his hat on his head. He grinned, showing a pair of frighteningly large canines. "Now, to what honor do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Rip Van Winkle?"

Rip said nothing and handed an envelope to him. He popped open the swastika seal on the back and read the later. He grinned again. "Good. Veeeeeerrrrrrry good. We finally move on the Hunter and the Firestarter." Comprehension flashed over his face. "So that's why you're here."

Rip nodded. She unshouldered her gun and pointed it at Alhambra's face. Alhambra stared down the barrel of the gun and grinned.

"Exactly," Rip said. "Who better to catch the Hunter than the Huntress?"

* * *

Chapter 2- "Shall we Dance?"

* * *

Seras straightened her jacket and ran a gloved hand through her hair. She sighed. When she was a little girl, she had, for a time, entertained dreams of going to huge social events like this. In those dreams, however, she had worn a beautiful gown, not a military dress uniform. 

She stared at a mirror she had brought into her room, mostly for decorative purposes. "I wish I could see how I look."

"_Tres magnifique_."

Seras spun around to see Pip leaning against the doorway. Seras grimaced. When they had first met, he had hit on her, and since then, he had been constantly teasing her. As much he got on her nerves, on some deep level she had to admit that he _did_ look good in a tux.

Pip grinned and raised his left hand, revealing a bouquet of yellow roses. He straightened up and approached Seras, holding the flowers out in front of him.

"What are these for?" Seras asked suspiciously.

"Well, I am your escort."

Seras' eyes widened. "Y-you're my escort? A sleaze like you is escorting me? Why can't I just go unescorted?"

"A pretty young girl? At a party like this? I'm told that would just look horrible."

Seras took the flowers and sighed. "And I suppose going with my Master is out of the question."

"I'm not your master any more, Police Girl. Now that you've drunk my blood, you walk the night of your own will."

Alucard stepped out of the shadows. His normal red trench coat was gone, replaced with a long black, formal coat. His red cravat was gone as well, a black and white tie with a disturbing eye pattern in its place.

The hat was nowhere to be seen.

"And no, I cannot be your escort. I am accompanying Sir Integra, following her execution."

"Umm… Mas- Alucard, sir?"

"Yes, Police Girl?"

"That tie… it's hideous."

Walter stepped into the room, dressed in a white tie and tails. "Are we all ready?" He noticed the flowers Seras was holding. "Ah, yellow roses? For dying love, I believe?"

Pip blinked. "…Are they? I just thought they looked pretty."

"Indeed, for dying love. Come on now, the limo's waiting outside."

As they left, Seras stared down at the flowers. _Dying love? Love that is dying? Love for a dead one? Love… from one who will die?  
_

* * *

"I'll take three," Heinkel said, throwing the cards down on the table next to her sunglasses. 

Yumiko nodded and gave her three cards. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "Why don't you ever want to play with Yumie?" she asked.

"Because your other half takes losing very badly," Heinkel said. "Last time I tried to play cards with her, we ended up having to pay for the table."

Loud footsteps ringing through the hall distracted the two from their card game. With a grace gained from years of fighting, Heinkel produced a Desert Eagle from out of nowhere. Yumiko glanced nervously at the sword lying next to her.

Heinkel looked up at Yumiko. "Sorry," she whispered.

The door burst open and a giant figure stepped in. Before Heinkel and Yumiko could react, the figure rushed in and pulled them both into a bear hug, squeezing them with superhuman strength.

"You're home! It's great the see the two of you! How are my favorite nuns?"

While being shaken by Father Anderson, Yumiko's glasses fell off. Her features shifted, became harsher, her eyes wilder, as Yumiko went to sleep and Yumie took over. This didn't really change anything, as Father still had them in his death grip bear hug.

Heinkel slapped Anderson's arm frantically. He turned his head towards her. "Aye?"

The shorthaired Austrian pointed at her throat. "Air!" she finally managed to gasp.

Anderson gently put the two of them down. They leaned against the table, breathing deeply and trying to open up their airways.

Once Yumie had regained the ability to speak, she turned to Heinkel. "Can I go back to sleep? I'm still tired from getting that bishop."

Heinkel nodded, and Yumie slipped the glasses back on, reverting to Yumiko.

Anderson surveyed the small armory in front of him. "Paranoid about something?"

Heinkel jerked her head behind her. "Father Maxwell's orders. We have to guard this bishop. Maxwell actually seems to think someone might try and kill him even while he's here."

Anderson raised an eyebrow. "He did, did he?" He pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. "Deal me in."

"Shouldn't you be watching the orphans?" Yumiko asked as she shuffled the cards.

Anderson chuckled. "They're up at Rome for a football match. The nuns have decided that my behavior at football matches sets a less than wonderful example for the children."

* * *

"Hold the elevator!" 

Sakaki reached a hand out and grabbed the elevator door.

A young woman ran into the elevator, breathing heavily. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Yukina." Sakaki replied in Japanese.

Dojima Yukina looked up to see Sakaki Haruto grinning down at her.

Sakaki suddenly found himself tackled against the elevator wall, Dojima's arms constricted around him in a rib-crushing hug.

"I've missed you guys! I thought I wouldn't get to see you until my transfer request was processed!!"

Sakaki managed to extricate himself from her hug. "Whoa, transfer request? You're done playing Solomon super-spy?"

Dojima leaned against the elevator wall and crossed her arms. "Honestly? I was much happier at the STN-J."

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to work," Sakaki said, pressing the button for the lobby.

Dojima stuck her tongue out at him. "Are Michael and Miss Karasuma here as well?"

Sakaki stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. We're here for some ball, or ceremony or something."

"Ahh, hence the outfit. Looks pretty good on you, you should try dressing nicely more often. But…"

"…But what?"

Dojima began to root through her purse.

* * *

Karasuma tapped her foot impatiently and looked at her watch. "Where is that kid?" 

"Probably had trouble with his tux," Michael said, his nose in a computer magazine. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to put one of these things on?"

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid open. Dojima had pinned Sakaki against the wall and was trying to run a brush through his messy hair.

Michael and Karasuma stared at them in silence for a short while.

"… And somehow, that seems just about right." Michael said.

* * *

The last tour group in Vatican City wandered through the halls of a church, marveling at the architecture. 

The tour guide, a man with long white hair and an oddly cut dark coat stood in front of a glass case and faced the group.

"Now, these swords were used in the Crusades during the eleventh century, by some of the most famous knight companies. Does anyone know what knight company had the greatest victory record in that century? This shouldn't be too hard, they were quite famous."

A man in a black, many-pocketed vest raised a hand. The hand was covered in a strange glove, with chains emerging from the back of the hand to bind a jewel embedded in the palm.

The tour guide pointed at him. "Yes, Dr. Miguel Cronquist?"

"That would be the company led by Matthias Cronqvist and Leon Belmont."

"Very good. I would expect no less of you, given your family name. Now, what led to the fall of said company?"

"Matthias, heart-broken at the loss of his wife, turned his back on God, betrayed Leon, and became a demon who stalked the night for the rest of time."

The voice that responded had a distinct twang to it. A twang that spoke of deltas, swamps, and voodoo.

"Tsk, tsk. Miss Reinfield, you really must learn to raise your hand."

The girl bowed her had. "Sorry, Joachim."

The tour guide cleared his throat. The girl blushed slightly. "Sorry, Mr. Armster."

Armster nodded curtly and turned his attention to the large priest who was approaching him.

"I'm sorry sir, but you will all have to come back tomorrow. We're closed to the general public now."

"Oh, I am sorry," Armster replied. He reached into his pockets. "But I'm afraid we'll have to have extended hours for this tour."

There was a loud crash as the swords in the case burst through the glass and flew towards the priest.

The priest grunted as he was impaled through the chest. As he crumpled to the floor, the swords slid out of his body and began to hover around Armster, who slowly levitated into the air.

To the left of the group, four guards reached for their guns, while on the right a group of priests and nuns began running for help.

"Miguel! Cynthia!"

Dr. Cronquist turned to the right, reached into one of his coat pockets and threw his arm out. Blue crystals flew from his black-gloved hand and adhered to the fleeing clergy. The crystals melted and spread outwards, engulfing the group and freezing them in place.

On the other side, Cynthia had turned towards the guards. Grinning madly as a powerful wind built up around her, whipping her hair out of it's pony-tail, she glared he guards. The four men flew back into the wall, pierced through the heart by an unknown projectile.

Armster straightened his tie and nodded towards the unmoving clergy. "Somebody do something about them before they thaw."

Dr. Cronquist pulled a pack of cigarettes from one of his vest pockets and nodded to one of the tour group members. The tour group member snapped his fingers and there was a horrible crunching noise. When Dr. Cronquist, after lighting his cigarette with a match, looked back down the hall, it was completely empty.

Armster turned to the tour group. "Do you hear it, my children? Do you hear the music? The symphony of war? A great conductor will conduct a great orchestra of many soldiers soon; in the greatest war symphony this world has ever seen. My children, would you like to be part of this orchestra? Would you like to play the war symphony greater than all others?"

The tour group all fell to one knee. "We would, Elder Armster," Dr. Cronquist and Cynthia replied.

Armster grinned, revealing a pair of long, pointed fangs. "Then let us tune up our instruments."

* * *

Sakaki blinked a few times and tried desperately not to yawn. 

"God, this is boring," he muttered.

"No shit," the man sitting next to him said.

Sakaki glanced at his compatriot in boredom. Long hair, eye-patch, looked like a pirate.

"So why are you here?" Sakaki asked.

"My new boss made me," Pip responded. "Something about a show of force. You?"

"Same as you. PR trip. We dress up nice and schmooze with someone and smooth over some rough patches. Or something. I really don't get it.

"Bit like this ceremony then."

"In what way? That it's to smooth over some rough patches, or that we don't get it?"

"Both."

Pip started to slump down in his chair. Seras, sitting next to Pip, reached over and pulled Pip up by his collar.

Sakaki smirked. "Lightweight."

Pip shook his head. "Easy for you to say. Your escort's human at least."

Sakaki glanced sideways at Dojima. "I wouldn't say that…. Ow!"

At a nearby table, Adrian crossed his legs and glanced down at his watch. The ceremony of Integra's execution was finished, now merely remained the ceremony for her resurrection.

He allowed himself a very rare smirk as he compared her to Jesus. _It took him days to come back from the dead. She did it in a matter of hours_.

His father knew he was here. He had to know. Some sense of decorum had kept him from revealing Adrian's presence, but he knew.

The question was, why hadn't he tried to contact him?

**I thought I had taught you better manners. One does not talk during such a ceremony.**

* * *

Red lights flashed. Alarms blared. Someone had tripped the system. 

Guards were running. Weapons were being loaded. Important people were being moved underground.

Armster and his group kept moving through the corridors of the Vatican, slashing, burning, crushing, killing.

They never stood a chance, poor humans.

A tall, burly priest threw open the doors in front of Armster. Before the priest had time to react, Armster had impaled him on one of his swords.

"Isn't their fanatical devotion… cute?"

Cynthia blinked a few times, then held up a trembling hand to point at the priest. "Ummm, Joachim?"

Armster looked towards the priest, who was standing up. He looked down at the sword impaled through his chest quizzically. He grunted, pulled the sword out, and held it up to the light.

"You stole this from the exhibit, didn't you?"

Armster raised an eyebrow and motioned down towards the door on his right. "Go my children. I'm afraid you are far out of your league here."

The witches raced down the hall. Dr. Cronquist stopped and looked up at Armster. "That iron cross I made you will protect you from this place. It won't help you squat if you get stabbed with one of his blessed blades. Try not to get skewered." He turned and ran down the hall.

Anderson tossed the sword towards Armster. It was grabbed by some force and arced towards Armster, joining the other blades around him. Anderson produced two bayonets from his coat.

"So, vampiric trash, how are you surviving here? Isn't fatal for your kind to be this close to God's holy light?"

Armster smirked. "And I should tell you… why? Because we are both sword dancers? Then come sword dancer, let us dance."

"_The Lord will drive you and the king you set over you to a nation unknown to your fathers. There you will worship other gods, gods of wood and stone. You will become a thing of horror and an object of ridicule to all the nations where the Lord will drive you_._ Amen. _"

Anderson rushed towards Armster. Armster brought around one of his blades, which Anderson deflected with a bayonet. Armster tried to hit him with another sword, but he had underestimated Anderson's speed. It was all he could do to block Anderson's bayonets with a sword.

Anderson bounced backwards and tossed his blades at Armster, who dodged to the side, then rushed forward, his swords spinning around him like a tornado.

Anderson rushed towards him, threw himself forward, rolled under, came up, and threw more bayonets at Armster. Armster spun around and brought up a sword to block. He was surprised as Anderson reached into his coat and brought out a Bible to fling at Armster. Armster smirked and sliced upward with a sword, slashing up through the bible's spine. The pages flew out of the out of the bible and whirled around the room. When the view cleared, the walls were covered with pages, pinned to the wall with bayonets.

"Purifying this house? How could this place be anymore holy?"

Anderson growled. "_You're_ here, aren't you?"

* * *

"May I have this dance, Master?" 

Integra sipped at her champagne. "Dance, Alucard? I wasn't aware you danced."

"Not for many years, Master. But they say you never forget the steps. As I recall, it has been a long time since you danced."

Integra stood up. "And the last time was also with you. When I turned eighteen."

Alucard took her hand and put his other hand on the small of her back. "You always remain the same age to me, Sir Integra Hellsing. Or rather, Sir Integra Helsing."

Integra was mildly impressed that he managed to pronounce it without the extra "s", but knew better than to let it show.

"I hope you behaved yourself while I was gone." Integra said as Alucard whirled her around.

"And if I haven't? Will you lock me up in the basement for another twenty years? Waiting for your child to come running from a murderous rival?"

"You assume my child will need your help. We have another vampire to rely on."

Alucard grinned. "Ah, yes. The Police Girl. What will you do about her? She is no longer bound to me, and therefore no longer bound to you. She could go rogue. Kill a few humans. What will you do about her?"

"Nothing. Unlike you, we don't need to restrain her."

"Am I that untrustworthy?"

"Until you prove yourself otherwise, yes."

"And how do I prove otherwise?"

Integra didn't respond. They danced in silence for a while, until the music finished. They both bowed.

"May I have the next dance?"

A tall, pale, dark haired man had suddenly appeared. He proffered his hand to Integra. "Provided, of course, that your escort does not mind?"

Alucard smiled. "Mind? Why should I mind? I'm sure it's been a while since you danced as well."

Alucard backed away and walked off towards the bar. "And after all, it's her choice."

Integra looked at the man coolly. "Aren't you going to at least introduce yourself before demanding a dance?"

"Ah. Where are my manners?" He bowed. "I have many names. Alucard, Genya Arikado, but for now, let us me my original name. The one my father gave me. I am Adrian Farenheights Tepes."

"Oh really? I wasn't aware that you were on speaking terms with your father," Integra said as she accepted his hand. "In fact, I believe the last time you saw each other was when my ancestor bound him to the family."

"Certain events have forced a reunion rather sooner than I expected."

"…And what would those events be?"

Adrian nodded towards a table on the side of the dance floor. "Events that I suspect he is here to speak to you about."

Integra's eyes narrowed as she looked towards where he was nodding.

"What. Is. _He_. Doing. Here?"

"Perhaps he is here for the same reason I am. To band together against a mutual foe. Perhaps he enjoys taunting you. Perhaps he's only after a free meal. If you wish to know his intentions, why not ask him yourself?"

As the dance ended, Integra bowed to Adrian and glanced at Walter, who was standing at the edge of the dance floor. He weaved his way through the dancers to her. "Walter, watch my meeting with Father Maxwell," she said, nodding her head towards Enrico's table. "If it looks like I'm about to do something… _undiplomatic_, you have my permission to use any and all means to stop me."

Walter nodded and melded back into the crowd.

Integra turned to Adrian, but found that he had already been roped into a dance by a Japanese woman with short brown hair. She raised an eyebrow, but turned and approached Enrico's table, where he was twirling a full champagne flute in his hand and speaking to an elderly priest beside him. As she approached, she caught the words "Means to stop me," before the elderly priest nodded and melded into the crowd with a skill that matched Walter's.

Enrico looked up, drowned his champagne in one gulp, stood, and bowed. "The most worthy Sir Integral Helsing. How are you?"

* * *

Dr. Cronquist raced down the hall, the witches following him closely. As he passed through the crossroads, a gunshot rang through the halls and a bullet passed within inches of his head. He dived forward and rolled towards the other side of the corridor. 

"Iscariot assassin group!"

Cynthia flattened herself against the wall and peaked out into the corridor. A bullet came flying towards her head, but was deflected away into the wall behind her.

"WITCHES!" A voice with an Austrian accent called out. "They're witches! Contact Solomon! Ready the anti-witch ammunition!"

Cynthia squinted and a few of the priests flew backwards, dead. Their leader, a tall blonde woman in priest's clothing dodged behind a pillar. The wall behind where she had been standing exploded outwards, spraying rubble everywhere.

Another bullet flew by her head, but she was unable to deflect it. "Aw shit." She flattened back against the wall and looked towards Dr. Cronquist. "Go! It's more important then all of this."

Cronquist nodded, then reached into one of his pockets. He squeezed something in his right hand, then tossed it over to Cynthia. Cynthia squinted and the object zoomed across into her hand. Cronquist turned and dashed down the hall.

* * *

Sakaki leaned back against the bar and watched the meeting between Integra Helsing and Enrico Maxwell. "Diplomacy at work," he muttered. 

Pip came up beside him. "Heineken," he said to the bartender. He turned to Sakaki. "You want something, my comrade in boredom?"

Sakaki shrugged. "I'll have a beer, if you're buying."

Pip nodded. "Two Heinekens, then." He stuck his hand out. "I don't think I introduced myself. Pip Bernadette."

Sakaki stared at his hand. Michael came up behind him and whispered something in his ear. Sakaki nodded, then shook Pip's hand.

"Sakaki Haruto."

Pip raised an eyebrow. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Cultural differences," Michael said. "Shaking hands isn't very common in Japan."

"Ah. Right. I knew that."

Sakaki smirked. "It's alright. You're buying me a drink, after all."

Pip smiled and leaned against the bar and looked around.

Sakaki turned to Michael. "How did you survive that ceremony?"

"You mean that fascinating look into Britain's complex history and pageantry?"

"…Michael?"

"Oh, alright." Michael produced a Game Boy from one of his pockets.

Sakaki nodded. "Should've known. Miss Karasuma confiscated mine before we left the hotel."

"And I should have confiscated yours, as well." Karasuma said, snatching the Game Boy from Michael's hands. "Excuse me, Mr. Bernadette?"

Pip looked up. "Captain, Captain Bernadette."

"Whatever. You might want to keep an eye on your escort."

Pip looked over to where Karasuma was pointing. "Tch. That's not right." He nodded to Sakaki and stalked off across the dance floor.

"What was that about?" Sakaki asked.

"Oh, high society's usual preoccupation with looking down on those who aren't them," Karasuma answered.

Sakaki shrugged and sipped at his beer.

Dojima ran up and tugged on Sakaki's arm. "C'mon, dance with me!"

"Dance?"

"Yeah. You know, move your body in time to music, often played by a band?"

"I don't really know how to dance, Dojima."

"That's alright, I'll lead."

Karasuma took the beer from his hand and pushed him forward.

"Go, have fun. You're too young to be drinking anyway."

"Actually," Michael said as Dojima dragged Sakaki onto the dance floor. "The drinking age here is eighteen."

Karasuma nodded and drank Sakaki's beer. "Yeah, but he doesn't know that."

* * *

Dr. Cronquist turned a corner and ran into a large door. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a bag of red powder. He poured the powder out on his hand and blew it at the lock. As the powder hit the lock, it started to dissolve. Dr. Cronquist pushed his way in through the door. On the other side, a woman in a nun's habit sat, holding a katana across her legs. A chest sat behind her. 

The nun stood up, her head bowed. "Are you sure you'd rather not just… give up and go away?"

Dr. Cronquist smiled. "Sorry honey. Not happening."

Yumiko looked up at Dr. Cronquist. He thought he could almost see tears in her eyes behind those enormous glasses.

"Please?"

Cronquist took a step forward.

Yumiko's reached up and pulled off her glasses. Yumie reached down and pulled her sword from its sheath. She closed the distance between her and Cronquist in the blink of an eye. Cronquist pulled something from his pocket and squeezed it in his hand. A sword of light emerged to block Yumie's katana.

"I suppose I could spare a moment or two to dance with you."

* * *

The figured in the hooded jacked stood in front of Buckingham Palace and lit a cigarette. She looked towards the guards standing in front of the gate. "Do you mind?" 

The guard stared straight forward, ignoring the hooded figure.

"Oh. Right. You guys aren't allowed to talk. Like the Cap."

She shrugged, and walked away from the gate. She walked around the corner and ducked into an alley. She glanced around, then pressed her hand to the ground. Letters slid off her hand and snaked their way up the buildings, sliding through the darkness over the streets and up the walls of the palace. They snaked their way into a window and began to slowly spread through the ballroom.

* * *

Seras sat in the middle of the young noblewomen; glad she hadn't drunk enough blood to produce a blush. 

They weren't talking about her. Not directly, at least. However, they had somehow made it abundantly clear what they thought of her, what they thought of her dress, her hair, and her lack of dancing invitations.

It was like being back in school.

"Ohhh, look at him! I love the eye patch!"

"There's a rogue for you. I wonder where he's been. People like him, they've seen foreign countries."

Seras looked up to see a crowd of girls flocking around Pip. Pip raised an eyebrow and tried to force his way through the crowd. He pushed through the throng of girls and stumbled in front of Seras.

"You know, try no to be too obvious about where you push when forcing your way through a crowd."

Pip grinned. "I'm a guy. I can't help it."

"Then why aren't you dancing with them?"

"Three reasons. One: I'm your escort, I'm supposed to dance with you." He offered his hand to Seras.

Seras took it, and stood up.

"Two," Pip said as he led her to the dance floor. "They're useless, and useless women bug me. I'm not quite sure why."

"And the third?" Seras asked as she started dance.

"I can't tell you. You'll hit me again."

"I will not!"

"Yes you will."

"I promise I won't."

"Alright, you've got a nicer rack than they do."

"You're right. I'm going to hit you."

Then letters enveloped the room and the world disappeared.

* * *

Yumie slid her sword into her sheath, stuck into her arm, and crouched down. 

"An _iai_ strike?"

"You actually know something of swordsmanship. How impressive. Are you ready to die, pagan?"

_FLASH! _

_Clang!_

_ Crckkkzasssshhhhh  
_  
Cronquist's sword broke and faded out. He dropped the jewel in his hand to the ground. "Guess I'm running low. My cue to leave." He kicked Yumie in the chest, sending her sprawling. Before she could get up and recover, he rushed across and threw open the chest. He pulled something from the chest, reached into his pocket, and squeezed.

Two floors up, Cynthia gritted her teeth and checked down at the jewel Cronquist had given her. Suddenly, it flashed blue.

"We're leaving! Gather round!"

Meanwhile, a floor above them, Anderson was missing an arm. Sheered off at the elbow.

Both of Armster's arms were dislocated and broken.

Neither seemed to really care.

"Time for me to go," Armster said.

"Who the hell are you, demon?"

Armster smiled. "We are," he said as a jewel around his neck flashed, temporarily blinding Anderson, "The Coven."

When Anderson's vision cleared, Armster was gone. He cursed and ran off down the hallway, the skeletal structure of his arm already growing back.

* * *

"What on earth?" 

"Where are we?"

"Protect the Queen! Stay back, your majesty!"

"Will everybody just calm down and be quiet!" Integra's stern voice rang through the ballroom, sheathed in blackness, images of carnage dancing around them. Soldiers fought, bombs exploded in trenches, men on horseback skewered innocent peasants.

"Alucard? What is going on?"

Alucard chuckled. "Do you see it, my children? Do you recognize this scene for what it truly is? You walk the nights of your own will, Adrian and Seras. Are you ready for it?"

Seras looked around blindly. "What do you mean?"

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Imagine you have an eye in the middle of your forehead," Adrian said. "Now, open that eye, and see what's real."

Seras' eyes widened. "It's an illusion. It's all fake."

Pip growled. "That's all very well, but what about those of us without bloody invisible eyes in our foreheads?"

Karasuma started to wave her arms around, looking for the bar she knew was there. When she tried to lean against the area she thought it was, her hands passed through thin air and she fell to the floor. Michael ran over, hit the bar with his knee, and tried to help her up. Karasuma brushed him off, removed one of her gloves, and touched the cold wooden floor.

Images. A woman in a hooded jacket. Tattoos. Cigarettes. An eye. A swastika.

"It's witch magic! This is some sort of craft!"

Enrico smiled. "Craft eh? I know how to deal with that." He threw pushed back his robe to reveal a rapier on each hip. He grabbed the rapier on his right hip, pulled it out of the sheath, and slammed it into the ground. Various runes inscribed on the rapier flowed down the blade like water, flowing outwards over the darkness, erasing it where it passed.

"So, you are actually good for something," Integra said.

"Don't count out Iscariot just yet, Sir Helsing," a voice said from the windows.

The party whirled around to see a figure in a hooded jacket. It reached up and pulled back the hood to reveal a woman with short, blonde hair; a face half covered in tattoos, and a lazy eye.

A quarter of the room suddenly produced weapons and trained them on her. She smiled and produced a cigarette. "You all brought weapons to a party? How paranoid," she said in a German accent. She spread her arms out to her sides. "I'm unarmed. I am just here to deliver a message which the Valentines failed to." She shook her head. "Such a shame, I had such high hopes for the two of them."

"Speak your piece, you pathetic copy, so that I can end your misery that much sooner," Alucard said. He smiled and pulled Casull from his jacket, the gleaming silver flashing in the overhead lights.

"Very well. As Jan would have put it… happy mother-fucking Millennium." Her cigarette was suddenly cut off by a monofilament wire. She saw Walter and Father Renaldo, who had produced a pair of Bibles from his robe, slowly advanced towards her. She spat out the cigarette and jumped back through the window into the night.

Sakaki rushed towards the window and looked out into the blackness.

"It's no good," Alucard said. "She's gone."

Integra wheeled around on Enrico. "What do you know, Maxwell? What secret have you been hiding from us?"

"Sir Integra!" The Queen's voice echoed through the hall. "Please do not accuse Father Maxwell of anything until he has spoken."

Integra backed off slightly. "Yes, your majesty."

"Now, Father Maxwell, is there something you wish to say?"

Enrico smirked and opened his mouth, when something at his hip beeped. "Would you excuse me?" he asked. He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. "Hello… WHAT?…Is the Pope?…Who took what, from where?" Enrico, visibly shaken, leaned against a table for support. "No… no, stay there. Send Yumiko and Heinkel up here immediately. I'll give you further orders later." Enrico closed the phone, placed it on the table, and breathed heavily.

"Thirty-six hours."

"What?"

"Give me thirty-six hours, and I'll have the answers you want, Miss Helsing." He turned around. "But remember, I'm only doing this because his Holiness ordered me to, because we owe you for Anderson's behavior."

* * *

In a small restaurant in South America, Amon sat across from Robin and calmly ate. He reached for his drink and Robin noticed that there were small pieces of ice floating in it. 

"I thought they didn't have any ice," she said.

Amon glanced down at his glass. "They didn't."

_Damn it._ He thought. _It's happening again. And if my craft awakens where it will draw attention?_

A young man with red hair and a goatee staggered over to their table and leaned on it, bowing his head over their meals. Amon and Robin instinctively covered their soup.

"Hey," the redhead slurred. "You both look like you're hunters, ya know? I'm a hunter to, and hunters can always recognize other hunters. It's in the eyes. You can always tell another hunter."

"He's drunk," Robin said.

Amon sniffed the air. There was no alcohol on this man's breath.

"I'm J." The redhead said. "And I think we're going to the best of friends, right?" His eyes suddenly grew clear, and he stopped slurring his words. "And I think, as friends, you'll trust me when I tell you to duck, now!"

They threw themselves under the table, as gunfire rang out through the clear afternoon sky.

"Great day to start a friendship, don't you think?" J said.


	3. Balance of Power

"The first time I met the Major was in 1941," Bishop Gandolfini said. "Of course, he was just a First Lieutenant then."

Enrico sat at the hotel suite table and twisted the cheap pen around in his hand. This was beginning to bore him.

"He didn't look like much of a soldier. Short, pudgy to the point of being obese. Nothing at all what I imagined the frightening SS Officer to look like.

"His smile… the little tick where only part of his face moved, to the massive grin that threatened to split his face, it was terrifying."

Enrico nodded. "Of course, your grace. And so, those of you in the European office of the Vatican at this time aided him and his agency."

The Bishop nodded emphatically, "Exactly! I was threatened, no! Coerced into helping him! That man, a decree from his Führer in his hand, made us work with him. You don't know, Father Maxwell, you weren't there! You don't know what it was like! That detestable little man, with his grin that seemed like it would split his face."

Enrico nodded sympathetically.

"This is what he said… to 'savor the joy of war limitlessly… for the next war, and the next, and the next.' That man… he spoke as if he war a commander of Satan's Legions himself! You don't know Maxwell!"

Enrico smirked and twirled the pen around in his hand. "No. You're right. I can't know what it was like. I still think I would have refused the offer of eternal life."

Bishop Gandolfini's eyes widened in surprise. He glanced behind him at the nun in the Priest's garb. She smiled, pulled out a gun from a shoulder holster, and started to load it.

"After all, that's what the Major offered you, wasn't it? Eternal life? A chance of being a vampire? That's why you helped him and his compatriots escape. That's why you helped the Millennium Project move the treasures, the Jewish artwork, the gold, and the jewelry, all of it! All of which was, of course, merely capital for their true goal."

"You know? You know that?" Bishop Gandolfini stuttered.

"Of course. It's what we're here for. We know their true goal. Artificial vampire production. An army of artificial vampires. The FREAK chip technology. The Letz Batallion."

Yumie and Father Renaldo emerged from the darkness. They each grabbed an arm and forced Bishop Gandolfini down on the table. Heinkel pulled a silencer from her jacket and started to screw it onto her gun.

"Internal affairs inquiry?" Enrico shouted. "No! A court of impeachment? No! This is an Inquisition!"

"Maxwell! Please! The… the afterlife!"

Maxwell leaned forward and turned his head sideways to look at Bishop Gandolfini. "The afterlife? You should have thought of that before you helped the Major! But perhaps something can be done to save you."

"Yes! Yes! Anything! What do you want?"

"Don't grovel, Bishop. Not to me. You should only grovel to God. But if you want to help us, tell us where they are! Where in South America are they hiding? Brazil? Argentina? Chile? Colombia? Where?"

Bishop Gandolfini whispered something in Enrico's ear. Enrico smiled, stood up, and faced the window, looking out over the Thames.

"Is that what you wanted? I have saved myself, right?"

"Saved yourself?" Enrico asked. He shrugged. "I wouldn't know. That is between you and the Father."

Whoomph 

Enrico stared out over the city. _There are actually Catholics living here? There's no accounting for taste._

"Father Renaldo? Would you be so kind as to dispose of the Bishop?"

Father Renaldo nodded and placed his hands on the dead Bishop's shoulders. Pages flew out of his robes and surrounded him and the body. The fluttered everywhere, filling the sight of Enrico and his subordinates. As the pages disappeared and their vision cleared, the body and Father Renaldo were gone. Enrico turned and looked at Heinkel and Yumie. "Clean up the blood. I don't want the hotel asking questions."

He sighed and stalked off to his room. That was the easy part of the day. The hard part, holding his temper in the meeting, would be the difficult part.

* * *

Chapter 3- Balance of Power

* * *

Adrian began sorting the files the Denesti's had faxed to him. When Alucard entered through the ceiling, he barely even reacted.

"Ah, the DeNasty's. Or is it Denesti now?. You could always count on them to continue hating me."

Adrain picked up a file marked "The Coven" and flipped through it. "Considering what you did to Grant and his ancestors, you can hardly blame them, can you?

Alucard smiled. "It had to be done. You were barely old enough to talk then, as I recall."

"Yes. Back when you were pretending to be human. Before mother died. Before Orlox came."

Silence was Alucard's only answer.

Adrian sighed. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"What was? Why should I care? It's ancient history for all but the Denesti's."

Adrian gathered up his folders and started to walk out of the room. He stopped at the door. "Whatever happened to Orlox, father?"

"After you killed him?"

"Yes."

"I never really bothered to find out. It didn't strike me as important at the time."

Adrian held up a file marked 'Graf Orlox'. "Perhaps it should have."

* * *

As the zeppelin touched down into the hanger, the Major adjusted his tie slightly and flicked away a microscopic piece of dust off of his jacket.

"I dare say the Old Opera House Men will be angry with us," Doc said from the left.

The Major smiled. "Let them be angry. Can _they_ stop us now? No, can _anyone_ stop us now?"

"You have a point there."

The Major turned behind him. "Schrodinger?"

The were-beast suddenly appeared beside him. "Yeah, Major?"

"Stand at my right, please."

Schrodinger looked towards the empty space on the Major's right. "But the Captain always stands there."

The Major patted Schrodinger on the head. "Yes, but the Captain is away on business, as are all the other Werewolves. You get to stand at my side today."

A massive smile split Schrodinger's face, and he started humming as he took his place beside the Major. At least, until Doc hit him in the back of the head.

The ramp slowly lowered to ground and the trio walked down into the harsh, artificial light of the hanger. The Major raised his hand up to his shoulder. A thousand arms raised in salute, and a thousand voices called out as one.

"SIEG HEIL!"

* * *

It was a cold night. The type of night that chills the blood and marrow of anything that dares venture out, be it man, beast, or monster.

And the monsters were out in force tonight. They were coming together, abandoning their hunts, their sanctuaries, their solitude. For there are things in the dark even monsters fear.

"I don't understand why we have to meet in this library," a voice said from the shadows.

"So that you could see, so that you could understand," another voice responded.

"Understand what?" Another voice interjected.

"Understand what we're facing. Helena is gone. He wrecked London, destroyed the tower, cut the top off the bridge entirely. And from what my intelligence has lead me to believe, he isn't even their strongest soldier."

The door to the burnt rooftop library opened and a new shadow stepped in.

"Close the door behind you!"

The new shadow shrugged and gently closed the door.

"I've got worse news," the shadow said, "the Stone has been stolen from the Vatican."

There was silence for a moment, then a voice from the back, which had been silent the whole time, finally spoke.

"Castlevania…"

* * *

The old Colonel glared at the Major as he walked down towards the old men. "Arrogant bastard," he muttered, "who does he think he is?"

"Do you know what the troops are starting to call him now?" one of the old man beside him said.

The Colonel nodded. "Acting Führer."

The Major stood at attention in front of them, clicked his heels, and threw up his hand in salute. "Sieg heil! Hitler's Secret Project 666 returning from carrying out his orders!"

The Colonel walked forwards towards the Major, leaning heavily on his cane for support. "What orders? We didn't give you any orders. We _never_ give you any orders. You run around doing what you please. You destroyed our Hong Kong factory, you killed the chip manufacturer. You're bringing us out of hiding. You destroyed half of London! Do you think that the world won't start following the trail to us?"

The Major smiled. "I am merely following the orders of the late Führer, nothing more."

The Colonel stopped in front of the major, his face flushed. He stared down at the Major's face. "What orders?"

The Major chuckled and looked up at the man. "I am sorry, but I cannot divulge the secrets of the Führer, not even to a superior officer."

"Don't be so arrogant!" the Colonel screamed at the Major, "You waltz around, acting like your some official agent of the Führer, as if you were carrying on his legacy! You're nothing! Just a simple SS Major who believes he speaks for the dead!"

"If that's the case, Colonel," the Major said, smirking, "why don't you kiss my official ass?"

The assembled soldiers began laughing.

The Colonel blinked angrily, then suddenly hit the Major in the face with his cane. The Major went flying to the ground and lay there, motionless. The Colonel walked up to him and began to beat him with the cane.

"Not so tough without your hulking bodyguard, eh Major? Not so hard to take down without your precious Werewolves? Where are your True Undead now, eh?"

The soldiers ceased laughing and stared at the scene in shock.

The Colonel continued to swing his cane at the Major's unmoving body, his voice cracking as he became angrier. "Why? Why didn't you give us the serum when you could? We could have stayed young! You had enough! Why won't you turn us into vampires? Why, why, why, WHY? You wouldn't let us keep our youth then, and you won't give it to us now!"

The Colonel raised his cane to strike the Major one more time when a hand darted out from the blackness and grabbed it. It yanked the cane out of his hand and pushed the Colonel to the ground.

The Colonel stared up and stammered. "O-o-orlox? When did you get back?"

"Just now," Orlox said, snapping the cane in half, "And you will address me as 'Count Orlox'. Filth such as you should not be allowed to toss around my name so casually."

The Colonel pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You're bound to us! You're under our control, you do what _we_ tell you to do!"

"Oh, I'm bound to you, am I? What did your lot ever do?" He stepped forward and kicked the Colonel in the side. He began to lecture the Colonel, punctuating ever sentence with a kick. "It was the Major who found me and my brethren, locked away by Van Helsing in that wretched crypt of a castle. It was the Doctor who unearthed the secrets of our race. It was the Major who created the Letz Batallion. It was the Major who led us away from dying Germany to this place of safety. It was the Major who had us bound to him. And," he said, picking the Colonel up by his lapels and slamming him against the wall, "it is the Major to whom I owe my allegiance."

As the Major slowly stood up, the soldiers brought out their guns. Schrodinger opened his mouth and grinned, showing rows of pointy teeth. The Doctor smiled quietly. Orlox lifted the Colonel off the ground and turned him to face the Major.

"What… what are you going to do? What are you going to do with an army of a thousand vampires?"

The Major stood up and pushed his hair back with his hand. "Do?" he asked. "We are going to savor the joy of war limitlessly. From the next war to the next."

* * *

"You can't actually be suggesting that we work with them!" a shadow demanded.

"We may not have a choice!" the shadow by the library door responded. "This growing far out of our control!"

"Would you be truly willing to work with the Witchfinders? With SOLOMON?" the older shadow in the back asked.

The shadow near the door shrugged. "Would you be willing to work with Helsing? Iscariot even? Perhaps the Belmonts?"

"Even if you are right and the situation is growing out of control, what help could they possibly be?" The voice sounded like a little girl valiantly trying to get her way. "What exists that we could not handle? They are being run by humans, are they not? Any vampire, witch, or were-beast that allows itself to be commanded by humans cannot be any real trouble."

There was silence for a while. "Perhaps then, sister, you would care to take of Helsing's vampires?" The older shadow asked. "Or perhaps, while we are discussing the weakness of humans, you would care to go toe-to-toe with that troublesome Paladin of Iscariot's?"

The shadow did not respond to the question put forth by the older shadow, but remained in petulant silence.

"That's not all," the shadow by the door said. He pulled some rocks out of his pocket. They glowed with an eerie yellow light. "They've already started."

The door burst open, throwing the shadow by it forward onto the ground. He slid over the floor, stood up and turned around. "What the hell? Who are you?"

A tall, blonde man dressed in a long overcoat stood in the doorway, bathed in the light of the waning moon. He didn't answer the question posed to him, but merely surveyed the multitude of shadows in the burnt library.

"Are you with us?" the old shadow asked. "Are you vampire? Witch? Werewolf?

The tall man didn't respond, but instead began to root around in the pockets of his overcoat.

"If you are not a friend, then leave, now!" the shadow by the door said.

The tall man ignored him.

The shadow by the door squinted his eyes and grunted. The air between him and the tall man vibrated, and the doorway exploded outwards, but the tall man seemed unperturbed. His hair wasn't even blown back by the blast. A green pedant around his neck began to glow and the liquid within the pendent bubbled.

The shadow took an uncertain step back. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?"

The tall man continued to ignore them and pulled a metal sphere out of his pocket. He shook it a few times, removed a pin, and tossed it into the center of the room.

Light streamed from the sphere, blinding, hot light. When the vision of the shadow by the door cleared, half of his colleagues were dead. His vampiric friends were huddled in the corner, rolling around on the floor, or struggling to stand.

Then a shadow enveloped his world and all he saw thereafter was darkness and flame.

* * *

Enrico sighed as they took the blindfold off. "What, don't you trust me?"

"No, but if it's any consolation, they don't trust me either," Integra Helsing voice floated from in front of him. As Enrico's the blindfold was pulled away from his face, he saw that the guards were pulling a blindfold off of Integra's face as well.

"Consider yourself lucky, Catholic. This is possibly the most secure place in England. It's so secret that most of the Round Table is completely unaware of its location."

"Including yourself, I see."

Integra smiled coldly. "Including myself."

"Of course, if you really wanted to know, you could always ask your Satanic pet."

"I'm afraid that I am also unaware of the location," Alucard said, appearing behind Enrico. He leaned over Enrico's shoulder. "My Master has forbidden me from looking inside the minds of those who lead me here."

Enrico's eye started to twitch. "How very… noble."

Down the table, Karasuma sighed and leaned back into her chair. "Look at them. They're supposed to be in charge, but they're squabbling like children."

"What's up with those two?" Michael asked, "I never really caught why they hate each other so much."

"I keep forgetting that you never really applied for this job, Michael." Dojima said.

"What?"

"Listen," Karasuma said, leaning forward. She laced her fingers together in front of her mouth. "I'm sure you're aware of this, but Solomon is a branch of the Catholic Church. While the clergy tend to let Solomon do what they want and allow us a great deal of secularity, we do, in the end, report to the Church. The young, long-haired priest over there arguing with Sir Integra Helsing is-"

"I know who it is," Michael said, "Father Enrico Maxwell, head of Iscariot. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I dug up on him last night."

"Most of it is probably true," Dojima said, "And for all our sakes, I would advise deleting it from your hard drive and forgetting everything you ever knew about him. It's safer."

"A bit beside the point though. Enrico is something of a religious fanatic. He harbors an extreme dislike for Protestants. And there is definitely no love lost between him and the Helsing Organization. Of all the Protestant demon-hunting organizations, it's the one he despises the most."

"… Ah. Of course." Michael said.

"What? I'm still not sure I get it," Sakaki said.

"Haven't you read _Dracula_?" Michael asked him.

"No, but I've seen the movie."

Michael shrugged. "Not quite good enough."

Adrian, from the end of the table, cleared his throat. "If I may begin?"

"Certainly," The Queen said from the head of the table.

Adrian bowed. "Thank you. Lights please."

The lights in the room dimmed and a projector in the roof flickered on, displaying a timeline on the screen.

"Father Maxwell and I decided it would be best to do this in chronological order. So we start from the beginning." Adrian shuffled his notes and took a deep breath. "About nine hundred and five years ago, during the Crusades, when the Catholic Church sent wave after wave of soldier to battle with the Gods of the East. There were many companies of knights in those days, but all agreed that the greatest company was that led by Leon Belmont and Matthias Cronqvist. One day, Matthias returns home from battle to find that, in his absence, his wife Elisabetha had fallen ill and died."

Seras thought she heard a sound behind her, but when she twisted in her chair to see what it was, all she saw was Alucard leaning against the wall, expressionless.

"Angry at the God who let his wife die while he was out doing His work, Matthias decided he would cheat God's plan. He made a deal with a powerful vampire, Walter Bernhardt, so that Bernhardt would kidnap his friend Leon's fiancée. He was confident the Leon's superior combat abilities would allow him to take down the vampire. His confidence was well placed, but for Leon to defeat the vampire he had to kill his fiancée, who had been turned into a vampire. It was the only way to create the weapon that would harm the vampire. When Leon defeated Bernhardt, Matthias swooped in and took the vampire's soul into him using the Crimson Stone."

"Excuse me," a voice said from the table, "But what is this Crimson Stone?"

Adrian pushed a few buttons on a remote and a photograph of a necklace with a blood red stone on it appeared on the screen. "The Crimson Stone is a stone created with alchemy. It is of particular interest to vampires. If a vampire uses it, he may absorb the soul of another vampire into him. Vampires can do this normally by drinking all the blood of another vampire, but this method is easier, quicker, and allows the user to obtain much more of the vampire's power. If a human were to use it, say Matthias Cronqvist, he would gain the vampire's power, but would also become a vampire himself."

"Where did Matthias come by the knowledge to make this stone?" Sir Islands asked.

"The Cronqvists are the masters of the alchemic arts. If there is anyone alive today who knows how to use alchemy, chances are that they're a descendent of a Cronqvist. But I digress. Matthias used the stone to take Bernhardt's soul and became a vampire. He then offered Leon the possibility of becoming a vampire with him, both of them defying God's plan for taking those that they loved. Leon refused, saying that he and his family would hunt Matthias for the rest of time. Matthias left and the vampire's castle crumbled to the ground. It turned out that the castle was, in fact, a creature itself created by Walter Bernhardt. A literal creature of chaos that was part of his power and had now been absorbed into the Crimson Stone."

Adrian hit another button on the remote and a painting of a pale man with long white hair was displayed on the screen. "During his time in Bernhardt's castle, now known as Castlevania, Leon met and defeated this man, Joachim Armster. Joachim was a Witch Walter Bernhardt turned into a vampire to serve him. However, Joachim rebelled, believing that since he had the powers of both a vampire and a witch, he could easily defeat Walter. Unfortunately, his vampirization greatly diminished his Craft, and he was far too young a vampire to defeat Bernhardt. He was supposedly dead, but death, as all of us know, is fickle at best."

There was a yawn, followed by the sound of someone getting hit in the shoulder. Vaguely, all those attending could hear: "I don't care how late it is! You're a mercenary! You should be used to bizarre hours!"

Adrian raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Moving on. After this, Cronqvist goes into hiding, emerging about three hundred and fifty years later as the self-proclaimed 'King of Vampires'. He is then killed by one of Leon's descendents. History, unfortunately, does not know the name of the one who did it. What is known is that Death, Matthias' right hand man, took the Crimson Stone and left the castle as it crumbled. Matthias had left instructions in the event of such an event."

Adrian hit the remote again and a painting of a man with an enormous black moustache appeared. "What happened was that Matthias' soul was reincarnated into a new vessel. Vlad Tepes Dracula. You have, perhaps, heard of his infamous insanity? Well, it wasn't all the fault of his days as a Turkish prisoner, though it's certain that those days helped bring out the worst in him. The darkness was born into his soul from an early age. Some say it poured into his brother, Radu."

Alucard smirked.

"Vlad never really got over the death of his first wife. He felt some need in him, something he new was missing. He started researching alchemy, various cults, etcetera. Eventually, news reached Death that this man was researching the Crimson Stone. Death appeared to Vlad, certain that he had found his master's reincarnation. And he was right. When Vlad touched the stone, memories came rushing back to him. He took the stone and became a creature of the night once again. However, his personality was altered. He was still Vlad Dracula, but some of Matthias' more nobler aspects leaked out. A sort of composite personality was born, which we will call Dracula for simplicity's sake. He retreated to Casltevania, content to merely exist in defiance of God, as Matthias had intended."

Adrian paused for a moment and stared at the table in front him. He clenched his teeth, then looked up again.

"Then, about five years later, he met a woman. Lisa, was her name. And the part of Dracula that was Matthias Cronqvist was amazed by how much she looked like Elisabetha. Seven years down the road and a child is born. A dhampir, a half-vampire. Me. Lisa had begun to push past the darkness that Vlad had bottled up inside him so early on in life. He had, perhaps, found God again. But then he had everything taken from him again. One night, while he was out fighting the Turks in a distant land, the townspeople assaulted the castle. They took my mother, thinking she was a Witch, and killed her."

"Was she a Witch?" the Witchfinder General asked.

Adrian shook his head. "No. Merely a very good doctor. I can still hear her speaking her last words."

"And what, Adrian, where those last words?" Alucard asked.

Adrain stared straight at Alucard. "'Do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, do them no harm, for theirs is already a hard lot.'"

Adrian shuffled a few papers to mask the uncomfortable silence, then continued. "About two years after my mother's death, a vampire named Orlox appeared. Have any of you seen the film _Nosferatu_?" He hit another button on the remote and a black-and-white still appeared, depicting a truly hideous vampire. "The character of Count Orlock was based on him, though Orlox was far more hideous. We don't know where he came from, nor his original name, but we do know this. He was once beautiful, but he made a deal with the devil. He had already lost his soul, so now he traded away his beauty. For power. He came to Dracula with a plan. He had heard of my father's loss, and said he too had lost greatly to humans. They would make the world burn, he said. They would make the world of men burn in the flames of chaos. My father went into hiding again, and emerged with a new name. Vlad was gone. Matthias was gone. Only Dracula remained. However, one of Leon Belmont's descendents, Sonia, and myself opposed and defeated him. I locked myself away in a sleep so I could no longer harm any humans, per my mother's wishes. Sonia taught her descendents how to fight, knowing that my father would return, again and again and again."

Adrain slid his papers into an envelope. "I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say that my father and Leon's descendents clashed repeatedly over the centuries. In the 1700's, I killed Orlox. At least, I thought I did. And then, as we all know, in the late 1800's, my father went toe-to-toe with a man who would finally break the cycle. Professor Abraham Van Helsing. Van Helsing and company defeated Dracula, but he was resurrected seventeen years later. The Belmont at the time, Quincy Morris; a man named Eric Lecarde; and Professor Van Helsing himself succeeded in bringing him down once again. This time, however, they did not kill my father. They bound him. I remember the ceremony quite clearly. They ripped the Crimson Stone from him, draining him of most of his power, and they bound him to Van Helsing's blood. Van Helsing gave the Crimson Stone to the Vatican for safe keeping and then, for reasons only known to himself, moved to England and converted to it's church. The man once known as the Prince of Darkness now stands in this room, leaning against the wall behind his Master."

"Is there really a point to this, Mr. Tepes?"

"Yes," Adrian said. He shuffled all of his papers into manila envelopes. "I believe I will let Father Maxwell explain that." He picked up his envelopes and sat down.

Enrico stood up and walked down the table. He turned around and smiled mirthlessly. _The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can get out of here._

"Back in the 1940's, there was a mad Major. This SS Major had an idea. 'Why don't we,' he said, 'make an army of immortals? An army of the undead?' This idea, mad as it was, was taken up and put into motion, Codenamed: Millennium. They found their originals, demons chained by Van Helsing in a Romanian castle. They freed the demons, and had their geniuses probe, and prod, and delve into the Satanic creatures. And they discovered Satan's trick to make the dead walk. But before they could do more than mass produce ghoul soldiers, the entire project was destroyed, by agents of Helsing. The Angel of Death's first mission abroad, eh?"

Walter raised an eyebrow.

"However, this mad Major and his entourage did not die during the chaos the Angel of Death and Alucard put on the base. Rather, they escaped, taking with them countless treasures, precious metals, and Jewish artwork, to the safe lands of South America."

"How do you know all this?" Integra demanded.

Enrico smiled. "Because the Vatican helped. Considerably!"

Enrico picked up the remote Adrian had been using and hit a button. A picture of a FREAK chip appeared on the screen.

"We have discovered the true origin of the FREAK chips. The original apparent origin of England was just a ruse to throw us off track. Though, in retrospect, it was obvious. They left us a clue, they wanted us to know who it was." Enrico hit another button and the picture on the screen slowly focused in on the inner workings of the chip. The odd design grew larger and larger until it filled up the whole screen. Enrico tossed the remote down on the table and stood back to view the symbol on the screen.

A swastika.

There was silence in the dark room for a moment. "Maxwell," Integral said, "are you actually suggesting-"

"I am indeed, Sir Helsing. Our pasts, it seems, are quickly catching up to us. And more of our past catches up to us everyday." He picked up and the remote and hit a different button. A memo appeared on the screen. "This was given to us by Mr. Tepes. It's a transcript of an intercepted conversation. Mr. Tepes refuses to divulge his sources, but he assures me that it is of the highest integrity, Class A1. I have highlighted the pertinent text. Specifically, the reference to "Castlevania" and a speaker being addressed as "Count Orlox". Adrian played the tape back and assures me that the speaker is, in fact, the Count."

"Why would the Nazis want Castlevania?" Sir Penwood asked.

"The castle has been host to many tragedies. The death of my wife, the death of Leon Belmont's love, Walter Bernhardt's death, as well as countless other examples." Alucard said, "The building itself was a creature of chaos to begin with, but after soaking up so much negative emotions, it has truly become an entity itself. Near the end, even I had some difficulty keeping it under control. Reality itself warps the castle, changing it to a perverted version of an insane man's vision. There are many reasons why the Major would want such a thing."

"Yes, but he cannot have it," Father Maxwell said.

"Because it's locked up in the Vatican, and vampires cannot go anywhere near it?"

"No, because it was stolen three nights ago." He flipped a switch on the remote and a series of still shots from security cameras came onto the screen, showing a group of people running through a series of hallways. "We are prepared to repulse any attack by humans at this area. Vampires cannot come within two hundred feet of city limits without being reduced to cinders, and in recent history were-beasts and Witches have been unable to organize themselves enough to actually mount anything remotely threatening. Hence our shock."

He hit the button again and it switched to a video of Alexander Anderson fighting a floating figure. "It was a group of Witches, led by a vampire. We're still trying to figure out how he could survive there. The vampire, who was the only one who gave us any information at all, identified himself as 'Joachim Armster', and the group as the Coven."

All the Witch hunters in the room looked up suddenly. "The Coven?"

"What is this Coven?" Sir Islands asked.

"The Coven is a problem that we've been dealing with lately," the Witchfinder General responded. "Groups of organized Witches fighting back against are hunters, making terrorist type strikes, etcetera. It's been hell trying to cover it up from the media. Judging from the reactions of the Solomon hunters, I can only assume that they've had problems as well."

"Only in the last two or three months," Karasuma said. "But our jobs have definitely become much more difficult as a result of their actions."

"I'm not sure though, that Millennium's main goal is the Crimson Stone, though," Adrian said, standing up. He walked up beside Maxwell and held out his hand. Maxwell looked at him with a little distaste and handed him the remote.

"Right now, my information leads me to believe that their main goal is in South America. Two people they only refer to as "The Firestarter" and "The Hunter". I finally managed to get a pictures of these people and dispatched an agent to track them down."

Suddenly, Adrian's pocket started beeping.

"Excuse me," Adrian said. He picked up his phone and walked into the corner. "Hello?"

* * *

"Get us the fuck out of here," Julius said into the pay phone.

"Us?" Adrian asked. "You found them?"

"Oh yeah," Julius said, looking behind him at Amon and Robin standing at lookout. "I found them. Right around the same time the large force of vampires found them."

"What's the problem then? Vampires should pose no threat to you."

"Oh no," Julius said, looking around again. "The vampires aren't really a problem. Neither are the large groups of humans they keep sending after us either. Turns out there's a really good reason they're called 'Firestarter' and 'Hunter'. I'd say the major problem is the Witches."

"Witches?"

"Yeah. Witches. I'm not to well trained to fight those, and the Hunter isn't exactly equipped to handle them."

"I thought the Firestarer was supposed to be a Witch?"

"Oh, she is," Julius said, leaning against the phone booth. "But pretty much everyone we've run into so far has had these weird pendants. Some sort of green liquid in it. The Hunter and the Firestarter keep calling it Orbo. Blocks their powers."

"Alright, where are you?"

"Somewhere outside of Buenos Aires."

Adrian sighed. "Alright, get into the city and I'll see if I can convince them to send someone to pick you guys up as soon as possible. Until then, stay low and be careful."

"J!" Amon shouted.

Julius looked behind him. "Tch, gotta run Adrian. I'll call you when we get to Buenos Aires."

_Click_.

* * *

Adrian slipped the cell phone back into his pocket and hit the button on the remote. A picture of a pale man with long dark hair appeared on the screen, along with a picture of a young woman with reddish-blonde hair.

"Amon and Robin!" the members of the STN-J shouted, standing to their feet.

Adrian raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You know them?"

"Robin Sena?" Maxwell said. "The designer Witch?" He rounded on Dojima. "Your report said that she and Amon were killed when the Factory was destroyed! Do you know what kind of power she wields? She's too powerful to be left alive!"

"You only say that because she's not under your control!" Integra shouted.

"You would understand better if you knew what it was capable of!"

"She!" Karasuma shouted. "It's a girl, not a thing!"

The room erupted into shouts of anger, each side accusing the other. The Queen and Adrian tried to call for order, but their voices were drowned out by the sea of anger. Alucard stared over at his son.

**Now do you see why this was pointless? They will never agree on anything. Humans are too caught up in their petty differences to actually achieve anything.**

Adrian stared back at his father. **Do you still hate all of them so?**

**Not all of them. Some of them, just some of them manage to transcend their humanity.**

There was a quiet cough as someone in the back cleared his throat. It went ignored. The person cleared his throat again, louder this time. Eventually, he got fed up and screamed, "HEY! SHUT UP!"

All the voices stopped and looked towards the back corner of the room. A young boy in a Hitler Youth uniform stood there, fiddling with a rectangular screen. "If you will all just give me a second," he said in a German accent, "Herr Major will make things much clearer."

Schrödinger looked up to find that everyone had some sort of weapon trained on him. "Wow. Zorin said you were paranoid, but I had no idea."

Yumiko stood up and began to remove her glasses. Heinkel took a hand off her Desert Eagle and rested on Yumiko's shoulder. "No. We don't need her for this one. Yumie can stay asleep."

Yumiko nodded and sat down, her face a picture of relief.

"How did you find this place?" Integra demanded. "How did you get in here?"

"Your Round Table Judas led me here," Schrödinger answered, fiddling with the dials on the screen. "As to my entrance… well, I am everywhere, and I am nowhere. It was really quite simple."

"The Round Table Judas was found and killed." Walter said.

"Oh was he now?" Schrödinger said as he hit the screen a few times and it flickered into life. He smiled and placed in on the table, propping it up with a book. Static ran across the screen for a moment, then resolved into a picture of the Major, standing in front of a swastika flag.

"Ahhh, thank you Warrant Officer. Hello, my friends. Hello Helsing, hello Iscariot, hello Witchfinders, hello Solomon, and hello my dear Adrian. I do hope you will forgive our little interruption to your party, but we did have to get your attention somehow."

"What is your purpose?" Integra asked. "Why this lunacy?"

"Our purpose? Fräulein Helsing, what a foolish question."

In the background, screams could be heard. The camera rotated over to reveal a number of old Nazi's bound and gagged.

"Our purpose? Our goal? We would take any that was offered to us, as long was we were allowed our means. We will pursue any objective as long we can fight for it, as long as we can war for it." He snapped his fingers.

"Don't leave the job half finished." A voice from behind the camera said. "Even letting them become ghouls would be… bothersome."

The camera panned away from the sight of the old Nazis to the Major. Screams of agony could be heard in the background. "But I think an old friend wishes to convey his greetings."

The camera swung around to a figure standing in the shadows, it's face covered in darkness. It waved. "Greetings Master, Adrian. It's been a long time."

Adrian stared at the screen impassively. Orlox laughed. "What, still angry at me? Didn't killing me work out all of that hatred?"

In the corner, Alucard began to chuckle. "Is this how far you have fallen Orlox? I always knew you were pathetic, but I never imagined you'd be as pathetic as to serve them! At least my human masters don't try to impress the world with cheap imitations! Have you no dignity at all?"

Orlox shrugged. "Times change. We must also change, if we are to survive."

"Enough of this!" Integral shouted. "Why are you trying to bring back Castlevania? What goal are you warring for?"

The camera moved back to the Major, who smiled. "My dear Fräulein Helsing, that would be telling."

Suddenly, the wall behind the projector screen exploded inwards. Everyone ducked down for cover as air rippled forward into the room. Something began smashing to the table and chairs, leaving them in splinters. One of these projectiles hit Schrödinger, slamming him into the wall. He slumped down, apparently dead. The screen he had brought with him shattered into plastic splinters as another invisible projectile hit it. Alucard and Seras pushed Integra, Pip, and Walter behind them, acting as shields. Father Renaldo reached into his robes and pulled out a book. Pages flew from the book and surrounded the Iscariot delegation, protecting them from harm. Sakaki stood up and held his hands out in front of him. Projectiles deflected away from him and the STN-J into the walls beside them. The Queen was pushed behind the throne by her security force. A projectile caught one of the Witchfinder Captains in the throat and he flew into the wall, dead. A final projectile slammed into one of the knights' chest, throwing him into the table and leaving a gaping hole where his heart should have been. Then, the wind died down and the projectiles stopped coming.

Dojima looked up at Sakaki. "Since when can you do that?" she demanded.

Sakaki gulped, sweat pouring down his face. "Since about a minute ago."

"Your craft must have awakened," Karasuma said. "It was bound to eventually."

"Good timing," Michael said, patting Sakaki on the leg.

Everyone picked themselves up and stared out at the gaping hole where the wall used to be. Those who did not know where they were, were surprised to find themselves on the roof of a high-rise building, far above the London streets. In the hole where the wall was, a long-haired young woman they recognized from the security stills Enrico and shown them floated.

"Stay away from her," she drawled. "Stay away from our Messiah. Your day is coming to an end. Quit wasting your time trying to stop us and spend what time you humans have left with your families."

"Did you have to have such a dramatic entrance?" Integral demanded. "The boy-" she turned to indicate Schrödinger's corpse, and was surprised to find that the body had disappeared. "Had much better manners."

"What are y'all complaining about?" the young-woman asked. She glanced at the body of the knight. "I just killed your Judas."

Alucard began laughing again. He doubled over, clutching at his stomach, unable to control himself from the laughter. "I thought I recognized the smell of your blood." He straightened up and turned to Walter. "Walter, we've been remiss. Perhaps we should get our guest something to eat. Some flies, maybe? A spider or two? I know," he said, turning back to the girl. "Why not get Miss Reinfield a nice, juicy rat."

Cynthia's eyes narrowed as she glared at Alucard. "Monster."

Alucard smirked. "My, but you hold a grudge for a long time."

Cynthia's face clouded with rage, but she managed to contain herself for one last message before she flew off. "Stay away from Robin Sena. She's ours."

She flew off into the distance, the sound of Alucard's laughing ringing in her ears.

* * *

The tall silent figure looked around the library, now assured that all its inhabitants were dead. He nodded solemnly, stuck his hands in his pockets, and left the library to the elevator.

* * *

Out in Salsbury Plain, a famous formation of stones rest. They are one of England's tourist attractions, now roped off from the public to stop further degradation.

Druids used to come from miles around in the sixties, to pray and party and dance around the stones.

Their appeal to many was the lack of knowledge of why their ancestors took the trouble to put up these large stones. Many archeologists believe that they were an ancient calendar.

Which is precisely what their ancestors wanted them to think. Far better to hide its true purpose.

In the night, in places of Stonehenge that nobody watched, the rocks glowed yellow, a bright yellow that was fading into a blood red.


	4. In Search of Fire

Nagira Shunji glanced down at the packet of cigarettes on his desk. Hanamura, his assistant, had taped an index card onto it, with "DO NOT TOUCH" scrawled on it. In big, forceful, red characters. He sighed.

"Look Adrian, if you had shown me the pictures and told me that they were being chased, then I could have told you who they were and where to start looking for them. And who _not_ to tell."

"Yes," Adrian answered. "I could have. But would you really have told me? You don't strike me as the type to sell out your brother so easily."

Nagira grinned. "Good point."

"And call me Genya while we're talking over the phone."

"Oh come on… Genya. Who could possibly be listening to my phoneline? I'm hardly important enough to bug." A brown haired girl suddenly peaked around the partition that separated his desk from his assistants'. She waved nervously, her face full of anxious worry. Nagira nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. His guest nodded and sat down in the chair. As she came out from behind the partition, Nagira noticed the symbol on the arm of her jacket.

_STN-J?_

"Nagira? Did you hear me?"

Nagira shook his head. "Sorry Genya, what were you saying?"

"I said that you're more important than you think."

"Please. The operation I run here is minimal. And _nobody_ knows about my involvement with the incident a year back. Too messy."

"At least you have the presence of mind to not say what you were involved with. That's not why you're worth bugging."

"…Ah. The sins of the father come down to visit upon the son?" Nagira said as he sat down.

"Believe me, I know how you feel. I, possibly more than anyone else, know how you feel. But you and Amon can't run from it forever."

"Yeah, I know. Hang on a sec." He put his hand over the phone and leaned over his desk. "Sorry… er, what's your name?"

"Belnades," the girl responded. "Eliza Belnades."

"I'm sorry Eliza. I know I promised Karasuma I'd help you if you needed it. And if you're here, it's probably important, but would you mind waiting out with my assistant until I can finish this call?"

"But they're all gone. All of them. The entire team Solomon sent over."

Nagira raised an eyebrow. He took his hand off the cell phone and swiveled around in his chair. "Adrian," he said, "I don't suppose you would know why there's a young STN-J hunter in my office?"

"Well, that depends. What's her name?"

"Eliza Belnades."

"…Belnades? Put her on the phone."

Nagira shrugged and handed the phone to Eliza. "It's for you," he said simply.

Eliza took the phone. "Hello?"

Nagira swiveled his chair to the side and stared up at the ceiling, trying to block out the conversation the girl was having. If it was important, he figured Adrian would tell him about it when she was done.

He was snapped out of his catnap by the sound of a large envelope hitting his desk. He looked up to see Hanamura standing over him. "Napping on the job?" she asked sarcastically.

Nagira shrugged and looked down at the manila envelope on his desk. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

"Hand delivered by messenger," she responded. "Speaking of which, we still haven't hired a new one since we lost that girl we were keeping here."

Nagira waved a hand at her vaguely. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "I'll get around to it." He flipped the envelope over, read the return address, briefly wondered why the Denesti's would send him anything, and ripped it open, spilling the contents on to his desk. He glanced down at the photos that were now littering his already messy desk. His eyes widened and he scrabbled for the cigarette carton.

"HEY! You're supposed to be quitting!"

"That was before I got this package," Nagira responded.

"Mr. Nagira?" Eliza said. "He wants to talk to you."

She handed him the phone. He took and lit his cigarette as he listened to Adrian talk. "Is she really?" he said. "Alright, I understand. I'll look into it with her." He hung up the phone and turned to Hanamura. "Take this girl out for some lunch. Soba noodles or something. I don't know. I'll talk to you when you get back."

Hanamura and Eliza started shouting at the same time. Nagira massaged his temples. Between the two of them, he could make out Hamanura saying that she wasn't his personal babysitter. He was about to send both of them out when he heard Eliza say something about a "walled city".

"Alright! Alright, I'll take you out to lunch. We'll talk about it there. Just give me a few minutes alone, _please_."

Hanamura shrugged and led Eliza out of the office, closing the door behind her. He then went to his desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a faded picture. He put in on the desk and compared it to the pictures that were now littering it. He flipped a few of the pictures he had been sent over and read the quickly scrawled notes on the back.

"What are you doing alive, dad? What are you doing in London?"

* * *

_In Search of Fire_

* * *

The Captain stared down at the tourist map. There would never be another chance, so he had decided to see London before it was burnt to cinders. 

A hand rested itself on his shoulder. His muscles started to react without him even thinking. A calm voice stopped him.

"I just thought you'd like lunch before your flight."

The Captain turned around and took quick stock of the man behind him. Graying hair pulled into a ponytail. Glasses. Impressive sideburns. Tan trench coat. Black scarf with inverted pentagrams at the end. Symbols of the Coven.

"C'mon," the man said, patting his abnormally tall companion on the back. "I know a place that actually does a decent curry. Just us two old soldiers."

* * *

"You're hiding something from me," Julius said, as he sipped at his lemonade. 

"So are you," Robin replied, stirring her espresso.

"Yes," Julius responded. "We're all hiding secrets from each other. But I'm talking about something more immediate. Something that pertains to our safety."

"What makes you think we're hiding something like that from you?" Amon asked.

"The way you keep looking at each other when you think I'm not watching. And it's not an 'Are you alright?' glance. It's a glance of worry and discontent. Something's not right and you're not telling me what it is. Do you not trust me?"

"We do only know you as 'J'," Amon said.

Julius tilted his head to the side. "And I only know you as 'Firestarter' and 'Hunter'."

Rob in had bee looking down at her espresso while Amon and Julius were staring each other down. She suddenly looked up, extended her hand to Julius, and smiled. "Robin Sena," she said.

Julius accepted her hand. "Julius-" Julius stopped as their drinks started to shake. Water separated from them and started to rise into the air.

"I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen," Julius said.

The water rose over their heads and shot over to another table. Along the way, it fragmented into separate streams. The streams flew into a circle of glasses at a neighboring table and filled up three of them.

"It's the Orbo," a voice said behind them.

They swiveled around in their chairs to see a group of people sitting around a table. All sported the same symbol some where on their clothing. An inverted pentagram.

"What?" Julius asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Amon and Robin staring at the green pendants everyone at the table were wearing.

"The Orbo," a woman sitting at the table answered. She reached into a pocket of her blue jacket and pulled out a pendant with a bright green liquid in it. "It's not supposed to be effective against her. In fact, by all accounts it should be going out of control and we should all be screaming in pain, clutching our heads as the voices overran our mind." She picked up her empty glass and frowned on it. "But we're not. And that worries them. A lot."

"Sister Lyza?" a man on the woman's left said, shaking his glass and leaning back in his chair.

Lyza sighed. "I know. I'll take care of it." She stood up and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a few coins and started to toss them up and down in her gloved hand. "Che mozo!" A waiter stopped and walked up to her. She stood up and started into his eyes. "I just wished to tell you that the service here is terrible. My friends and I have been waiting for half an hour and we haven't even gotten a glance."

The waiter looked at her quizzically. "Que?"

Lyza smirked and held the coins out in front of him. "Still, I always believed that those who don't tip shouldn't eat out. Here you go." She brought her other hand around and punched him in the gut. The man bent over to meet the hand with the coins in it, which slammed into his chest. He went flying backwards into a wall, where he slumped to the floor.

The waiter looked up to see Lyza slowly walking towards him. The other patrons of the watched in morbid fascination, too frightened by the special effects with the water to act.

Lyza pinned the waiter to the floor and glared at him. Her eyes turned the same light blue as her jacket.

The waiter screamed in agony as water was ripped from his body through its pores. It collected in the air above her head. Tendrils slowly extended from the ever growing ball of water and stretched towards the empty glasses of the witches around the table and the glass Lyza held in her hand. As the flow from the waiter stopped, Lyza her raised her now full glass to the dried up corpse.

"See? Good service is always rewarded." She downed her drink in one gulp. "Here's how it works," she said, staring at the glass she was twirling in her hand. "Either you can come with us willingly and aid us in the fight against those who would keep us oppressed and slaughter wholesale any who dare try and embrace who they are. Or you can sit there, forsake your own, and calmly drink your espresso with a traitor. In which case, we kill the traitor and that worthless human you're with and take you anyway. I can live with both."

She turned towards Robin. "So, which will it be?"

Robin stared at the waiter's corpse. "…How could you?"

Lyza cocked her head to the side. "What? Oh _him_." She glanced down at the waiter.

"Didn't you hear me? Lousy service. It was just a human, no great loss. But if you say that, I suppose I have my answer."

Amon stood up suddenly and raised his hand towards the water above her. He grimaced in effort and the water froze solid. The Coven Witches dived out of the way as the block of ice came crashing down on them. "Robin! Julius! The table!"

Robin and Julius leapt up, grabbed the table, and threw it through the window. As Julius and Amon dashed towards the window frame, Robin spun around, eyes blazing. Shots rang out, but the bullets were incinerated before they could hit their marks.

"Rune bullets!" Lyza cried out. "Use your rune bullet gun!"

Robin started backing out the window when she heard gunshot behind her. She glanced back to Amon with his pistol drawn. Julius cursed and reached into the pockets of his coat. He pulled out several crosses and a bottle of water stopped up with a cross. He reared back and hurled the crosses out at several figures that were running towards them. They hurtled across the street and slammed into the chests of several of the figures, who screamed and crumpled into dust. In his other hand, Julius shook the bottle and lobbed in front of the remaining vampires. It shattered on the street, flames jumping up from the broken glass and encircling the vampires.

Amon, Julius, and Robin leapt threw the window and ran off into the night, Lyza's voice still ringing in their ears.

"Stop them! Don't let those Nazi sons of bitches have them!"

* * *

Tublicain struck a match on the edge of the rooftop and lit his cigarette. He dragged at it thoughtfully. 

"Impressive little girl," he said.

"Robin or the girl from the Coven?" Rip asked.

Tublicain grinned, letting the smoke escape between his teeth. "Both. Shall we move in?"

Rip shook her head. "No… no we shouldn't."

Tublicain looked sidways at her. "Why not? These are ideal conditions. …Are you alright?"

Rip removed her glasses and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I'm fine. This just doesn't feel right, that's all. Hunters are superstitious like that. Let the grunts handle it."

Tublicain shrugged and turned around, putting his hands in his pockets. "You're in charge. I'll go tell the troops," he said, jumping over the edge of the roof.

Rip stayed on top of the roof, staring at the retreating form of the red-headed youth in the dark brown coat. She cocked her head to the side and wiped off the cold sweat from her brow.

"I am the hunter. I took my power from the demon of the hunt. If the demon hunts me… who is hunting the demon?"

* * *

"We can't kill her," Integra said flatly. 

"Why not?" Enrico responded, putting his feet up on Integra's desk and leaning back in his chair. "We obviously can't let Millennium have her, and if the Coven convince her to come over to their side I'm not sure it would be possible to stop her."

Integra glared at Enrico's shoes for a moment then looked up to the man himself. "Aside from the fact that she's an innocent, which I know means absolutely nothing to you, if we kill her we risk inciting the Coven. You yourself know just how high they regard her. Look at this," she said, sliding a photograph across the table. It showed a picture of a wall covered in graffiti. Most of which read "She is coming. Our savior I coming. Robin, the Witch King, is coming.

Enrico scowled and sipped at his brandy.

"So an extraction then?" Adrian said. "In, out, and gone before the enemy notices."

"I don't suppose you're open to volunteers?" Alucard said, dropping through the ceiling.

"I'm afraid that, as much fun as I'm sure you would have, father, you can't go. Integra informs me that you don't exist, legally. We simply don't have the time to forge you a new identity or cut through the red tape required to get you there."

"What about Paladin Anderson?" Integra said as she lit a cigar. "This seems like the sort of thing he would specialize in?"

"Unfortunately, Father Anderson has been dispatched on another mission," Enrico said. "One that I assure you is of equal importance as this one."

"Where is he?" Integra asked.

Enrico smiled smugly and sipped at his brandy.

"I could just have Alucard read your mind," Integra said.

Enrico grinned and opened his arms wide. "He is more than welcome to try."

Adrian sighed and tried to tune out Enrico and Integra's bickering. _How can we even hope to get anything done when they waste their time arguing?_

**Such is the ridiculousness of humanity.**

**And we are not capable of acting just as ludicrous?**

Alucard grinned. **I never claimed we didn't.**

"You find something amusing, monster?" Enrico said, glaring at Alucard.

"Believe me, Father Maxwell, you do not want to know what my father finds amusing. Aren't we getting a little off track though? Sir Helsing, is there anyone on your staff who both legally exists and is capable of taking a mission like this?" said Adrain.

Integra tapped her desk thoughtfully and reached out for a file. She flipped through it and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the desk.

"Captain Bernadette's résumé indicates that he has a fair level of black ops and Special Forces training. He has also indicated that he has completed successful extractions before. Though where he learned these skills is unknown. The Captain assures me that it would be much better off for all parties if it remained that way."

"So we entrust this job to your mercenary captain and a hand picked team of his?" Enrico asked.

"Well, it makes sense," Adrian replied. "If anyone knows how to slip into other countries unnoticed, it will be them."

"I'm afraid that's not an option, gentlemen. I might be able to spare Captain Bernadette, but I need the rest of the Wild Geese to stay here. Considering how untrained they are in fighting vampires, I cannot put England at risk by losing any of them."

"We can hardly send your mercenary captain in alone," Enrico said. "I will assign two of my best agents to go along with him."

"I don't recall saying that you could send anyone," Integra responded calmly.

"This is hardly a worry for Britain. This could affect all of humanity. You can't shut us out."

"You seemed to be willing to do the same thing with your information on Millennium. I'm not so sure I can trust you, Maxwell."

"To do what? Not kill her? You've already made your point about why her termination is not an option. In fact," Maxwell said, standing up from his chair. "I'm not entirely sure why you have to be involved in this extraction at all. I could just send my own agents to extract them without your input at all."

Adrian moved quickly to try and stifle their argument. "What about Officer Victoria? Assuming that she's qualified, I would feel much more comfortable sending somebody with some supernatural abilities."

"I need Officer Victoria to stay here and train the Wild Geese. She's the only person I have left who's qualified, unless you want to take the job," Integra said.

"I'm afraid that my vampire hunting techniques are somewhat… dated. Can't Mr. Dolneaz teach them?"

Integra reached for a cigar and cut off the tip. "I'm afraid Walter has enough on his plate helping me to rebuild this organization. I couldn't even think of asking him to train the troops."

Adrian sighed. "And as I recall, my father's teaching techniques leave something to be desired."

"I would like to think I've learned from my mistakes," Alucard replied.

"As would I," Adrian said.

Enrico smirked and picked up his tumbler. "I believe we can help you there."

Integra flicked her lighter and looked towards Adrian, who shrugged. A quick glance towards Alucard, a nod, and she lit her cigar. "I'm listening."

"You wish to send two of your agents to retrieve the girl? Fair enough. I do not think the number is sufficient, though. I already have enough enemies moving against me. I can ill afford to stretch my forces by making another. You send the mercenary captain and your concubine of Satan. I will send my best two agents to accompany them. And you will allow this because I am feeling particularly generous today and will provide for you an instructor."

"And who is this instructor?"

"The man most qualified to teach vampire hunting in all the world."

"Ah. You are feeling generous then Maxwell?"

Maxwell smiled and sipped at his brandy. "Call it an act of Christian charity. Are you going to reject my flowers again, Sir Hellsing?"

"No. In retrospect, it was foolish of me to ruin a perfectly good bouquet." She smiled coolly. "I should have slapped you." Integra turned to Alucard, who was now sitting in a chair in the back leaning against the wall. He appeared to be napping. "Alucard, is Seras ready for something like this?"

Alucard looked up. "I'm not sure," he said, taking off his sunglasses. "It would be interesting to find out."

Adrain cocked his head to the side. **Learned from your mistakes, have you?**

Alucard didn't answer. Instead he looked towards the door of the office. Adrian glanced at it, raised an eyebrow, reached over, and yanked it open. Sakaki and Dojima fell through.

Maxwell chuckled. "Your security is somewhat lax, Sir Hellsing."

"We're still rebuilding."

Dojima sprang up and yanked Sakaki up after her. They dusted themselves off and turned to face Integra.

"We'd like to propose that a member of the STN-J be allowed on this mission."

"And the reasoning for this is?" Integra asked.

"You need someone who can handle witches," Sakaki said. "And we know Robin. We know how she thinks. And she trusts us. She and Amon might not trust your people."

"You have a point," Integra said. She puffed at her cigar. "And who, exactly, do you suggest for this mission?"

Sakaki and Dojima glanced at each other. "Well, either of us could go," Dojima began.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to make Miss Dojima stay here," Adrian said suddenly. "There's something important I need her to do."

"Where are the other two members of your group?" Integra asked.

"Miss Karasuma is helping the Witch Finder Army. Apparently their scryer was killed the other night and they need her to help investigate."

"Ah, of course. Do tell her that I want a report on all her findings sent to me," Maxwell said.

"This is a British investigation, Maxwell."

Maxwell grinned. "You use my people, I get information. A fair trade, Sir Hellsing." He turned to Sakaki and Dojima. "And where is the hacker?"

"Michael?" Sakaki said.

Dojima sighed. "Michael got bored."

* * *

Walter pushed open the door, his eyes fixed to the clipboard he was holding. He glanced up and stopped short. 

Through his long employment in the service of the Hellsings, Walter had long since had the ability to be easily surprised driven out of him. He was not about to let something like this get to him.

"What is going on?" he asked calmly.

The workers were clustered around one of the computer terminals and chatting so loudly that they were unable to hear Walter's voice.

Walter cleared his throat firmly and one of the technicians turned around to see him.

"Walter!" she said loudly.

The technicians turned around, saw him, and scattered. The one who had originally seen Walter cleared her throat as well and stood, very deliberately, in front of her station.

"And what, exactly, is going on here?"

The technician laughed nervously. "Why nothing at all, Mr. Dolneaz. What makes you think something is going on?"

Walter motioned for her to move to the side. She stepped away to reveal a young, dark haired man working on her terminal.

Walter noticed that the young man had the music on his earphones turned up so high it could be heard halfway across the room. Which went a long way to explaining why Walter' approach went unnoticed.

Walter reached out and hit the stop button on the man's CD player. The youth looked over at his CD player and followed Walter's arm up to his face. He removed his earphones and quickly stood up.

"You're with the STN-J, aren't you?" Walter asked.

The young man scratched the back of his head. "Well, sort of. I'm Michael Lee." Michael held out his hand.

Walter looked down at it for a moment, then turned his attention to the computer. "And what, exactly, are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry!" the technician said suddenly. "He was looking for a place to set up his laptop, so I pointed him to one of the empty terminals. One of the other technicians was having trouble, Michael went over to help, and well, one thing lead to another and ended up giving our entire system a complete overhaul."

Walter raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? The entire system?"

"Yeah. Especially the firewall. From what I hear, I figured that the Nazi guys are probably using your computer system to keep tabs on you."

"I designed our defense systems myself," Walter said.

"I broke through them," Michael responded. "If one person did, it's possible that another person could do it."

Walter stared at Michael for a few moments and then smiled. "Bored, were you?"

"Well… a little."

"Then why don't you come with me," Walter said.

* * *

The target stopped its backward motion and flopped in front of him. 

Breathe.

_Don't just shoot and hope you get lucky. Only beginners do that._

Breathe.

_You've got take time to aim. _

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

Pip ejected the clip, took off his ear protectors, and sighed.

"Nobody takes the time to aim any more, do they?"

Pip looked over to see an old man in priest's robes watching from a distance away. The priest walked up to Pip and inspected his target. "Impressive. Do you mind?"

Pip handed him the gun and retreated to a safe position.

The priest loaded a new target and placed the gun in front of him.

"Hey, Cap, what's that old geezer doin'?" one of the Wild Geese asked.

Pip held up a hand to silence him. The Geese stopped firing and looked over at the unassuming old priest.

Suddenly, the priest's arms appeared to blur, the gun jumped up into his hand, and shots rang out through the firing range.

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

**BLAM!**

"Gray," Pip said quietly.

"Yes Captain?"

"How many shots did you hear?"

"Twelve, Captain."

"Good. I'm not drunk then." Pip stepped up to the old priest and looked at his target. "When did you reload?" he asked.

"You missed it? Then it appears we have a lot of work to do."

Pip cocked his head to the side. "What does that mean? Who are you, old man?"

The old priest placed Pip's automatic down and turned to the Wild Geese. He bowed slightly. "My name is Father Marco Renaldo. I am a special attaché from the Vatican and will be overseeing your training."

"I thought the Police Girl was going to train us to fight vampires?"

Renaldo's eyebrows furrowed. "Police Girl?"

"Seras Victoria," Pip clarified.

Father Renaldo raised an eyebrow. "She is going to Argentina. Didn't you know?"

Pip's eye widened. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

Gray tapped him on the shoulder. "Boss… you're going too."

Pip turned behind him. "I am?"

Gray sighed. "You really need to start reading your memos, boss."

"…Memos?"

Gray sighed. "Those things you get in your e-mail box?"

"…We have e-mail?"

* * *

Michael took off his sunglasses and wiped them with his shirt. 

"This is what I get for showing off, I suppose."

Walter had put him in charge of trying to follow the trails the Coven and Millennium had left. Which was difficult considering how cold the trails were. But it was only a matter of waiting. Eventually one of the two organizations would try to hack their way back into the system, and fall right into his net.

He peeled the wrapper off of a Snickers bar and started eating it when his computer beeped. He glanced down at the monitor, stuffed the candy bar into his mouth, and started to type furiously.

Before he could execute the entrapment program, the user jacked out, leaving a message flashing on the computer screens.

Michael took the Snickers out of his mouth and stared at the flashing words on the screen. This was eerily familiar, though the message was different.

"Stonehenge?"

* * *

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Dr. Cronquist said into the phone as he lit a cigarette. 

"It's what he wants," Joachim answered. "Who are we to refuse him?"

Cronquist shook the match out. "Well, you're his boss."

Joachim's low chuckle floated over the phone. "Technically true. But it's his neck to risk, isn't it?"

Cronquist dragged on his cigarette, tapped it into an ashtray, and closed his laptop. "Whatever. Just warn me next time. I don't know who designed their defense system but if I had stayed half a second longer in there they would have had me."

"Well, they didn't get you, did they?"

Cronquist sighed. "No. No they didn't."

"Then everything's alright then. Just keep to your mission. I'll handle the rest. Don't worry, my good doctor. You are in excellent hands."

* * *

Karasuma shifted through the rubble of the ruined library. While the Witchfinder's had given her various things to scry: a grenade that they believe emitted UV light, several rune bullets, and a long, serrated knife, she had simply been unable to read anything from them. And for once, she was relieved to notice, it wasn't because of her diminishing powers. There was simply no emotion attached to the weapons. Nothing. 

Which was frightening enough in its own way.

She knelt down and looked under a chair to notice a rock resting simply on the floor. Deciding that something that out of place merited investigating, she reached out, grabbed the rock, and tried to scry it.

_Stones. Huge stones. Immense stones, laid out in a circle. Protection. Fear of other side. Protection._

_Fire. Fire and hatred. Burning and pain._

Karasuma dropped the rock quickly and looked down at her hand. It was bright red, as if she had held it to a toaster oven coil.

"…Stonehenge?"

* * *

The Captain nodded to his companion, shouldered his duffel, and walked off towards his gate. 

His companion nodded back and pulled out a road map of England. He traced a path down from London to the Salisbury Plains. He checked his watch.

"Cronquist should have given them the message about forty-five minutes ago… give me some time to drive down there…"

He neatly folded the map up and placed it in his pocket.

"Just enough time to pick up a gun."

* * *

As the trio raced through the dark park of La Recoleta, Robin suddenly fell behind. Here eyes widened. 

"What?" she said. "I'm supposed to be what?"

"Who's she talking to?" Julius shouted.

"I'm not sure. She's never done this before."

"But how?" Robin asked the thin air. "How am I supposed to save them if all they can do is kill?"

"Grab her then!" Julius said. "We can't waste time! Why aren't you moving?"

Amon's gun suddenly jumped into his hands. "There's something out there."

A figure scuttled into the dim light provided by a streetlamp. It bared its fangs at Amon and Julius. Several other figures scuttled after it. Behind Julius and Amon, Robin continued to question the darkness. Amon and Julius ran over to her and tried to pull her in the other direction, but she remained rooted to the spot, fighting them off. When a sudden flare erupted by Julius's sleeve, Amon grunted and punched Robin in the stomach. She grunted and fell limp. Amon caught her, threw over her shoulder, and turned to Julius, who was staring at the approaching vampires.

"Julius! Let's go!" he shouted.

Julius growled and pulled a cross from his pocket. His other hand moved towards his hip.

"We don't have time for this!"

"I can't," Julius responded, rushing at the vampires. "I can't. This is my curse. This is my cruse, my burden. This is my goddamn destiny. "


End file.
